An Education

My friend at http://www.32entropylane.blogspot.com/ and I seem to have similar taste in movies. At least, I agree with her comments completely about Crazy Heart and Julie and Julia. So when she posted about An Education earlier this week, I was reminded that I very much wanted to see it.

And it was good. I'm a big fan of Peter Snaarrsgaard (I could actually get up and go across the room to get the DVD case to see how to properly spell that, but you know the guy - the one married to Maggie Gegenhaall.) And in my next life I am coming back as Carey Mulligan. (Without the blond pixie she is currently sporting. Already Done. See Michelle Williams.)

The movie was absolutely delicious - one of those ones you think about for the rest of the night. But was anybody else watching it thinking, "This is the same movie as Lying Eyes?" [the Lifetime classic with Cassidy Rae]

Weekend Treat - Tarte Flower Child Cheek Stain

"The search is over." (Survivor)

I have found the perfect cheek color for the fairer of us. Tarte cheek stain in Flower Child. I've received several comments on how natural it looks (and not just from the salesperson.) It's a limited edition, so I'll be stocking up.

Take that Nars.

Deep Thoughts by Associate Girl

I wrote this a while ago, but it seems to go with the theme of the week - that is, listening to your instinct . . .

I would never disparage my ex-husband, and that is not the purpose here. But this is what I wish I knew all those years that I was trying (and not trying) to make it work.

Within a few months of our dating, certain of our interactions just didn't fell right. But other things about us did feel right and we had fun together. When issues came up, I felt like it was my responsibility to try and work through things. Relationships are give and take and work; this is a fundamental, indisputable truth.

The thing was, after every single fight, in order to have peace, I felt like I gave up a little bit of myself. Again, I thought this was just part of growing up. I couldn't expect to be the self-centered, only child forever. Plus, every single one of our couple friends had issues, including issues that seemed much worse than ours. Friendships and love lives ebb and flow. This is an indisputable truth too.

But the ebb just kept on its course, and we never found common ground again. We tried. We uprooted in the partial belief that uprooting to a new town, creating a new adventure just for ourselves, would bond us together and create new memories. It did, for the length of the road trip to the new town. Then we were just the same two people in a new town.

I struggled intensely with what I was supposed to do. Didn't I owe it to him after all this time to try and save us? Why was I having so much trouble reaching out to this struggling human being by my side? How was it he could not reach out to the struggling human being by his side? My stepmother sent me an article from Oprah Magazine that talked about the moment that couples knew their marriage was over. Such a concept never applied to us. We had events that should have caused me to walk out the door, or him to walk out the door, but that's not how it went. The signs were there all the time. We just walked around them.

There was no big decision. It was not that one day I said I was leaving him. In what is my most shameful and regretful behavior ever, I gradually cut him out of my emotions and my life so that when I actually walked out the door, I had already been gone for a very long time, as had he. We were like ghosts inhabiting a long since gone relationship.

So, this is what I share with you - Despite all the good times you manage to have and the life you are able to create and show to the outside world, if your heart is questioning the life you are leading to such a degree that you are wondering if you are living the life you were meant to lead, you owe it to yourself to not judge that instinct. And you owe it to everyone else in your life to listen to your instincts (maybe not whims, but instincts).

I think of the wasted time. My counselor says that at least I take with me some lovely memories, but I don't really. Very early on in our relationship we decided that "These Are The Days" by 10,000 Maniacs was our song. I heard it this morning driving to work. I didn't look back with happiness or even sadness. I thought about how beautiful the song is and how it never applied, and how much of myself I gave to a lost cause.

But I also look back and congratulate myself for taking my life back, for giving my ex-husband his life back too, and for following my heart when it was telling me to leap (even when my head and many any resources were telling me things to the contrary).

Que Sera Sera

What's happening to me? Are you there God? It's me, Associate Girl.

I am a planner. P.L.A.N.N.E.R. It is not okay to wing anything people - the world could spin off its axis, you will lose your court case, and general mayhem, death and destruction will ensue. I have always had a month, year, five year and twenty year plan (thereby keeping the world spinning in the appropriate direction (you're welcome)). I draw up my grocery list by aisle. I google the restaurant before I get there to pick what I am going to have.

So I amazed myself when I went into my conversation with my supervisor about my unpaid leave feeling completely okay with whatever the outcome was going to be. If they asked me to leave? Well, that would be just great. If they found a way to make it work so I could stay, well then I get a few more paychecks before I dive into The Franchise construction before it's open and I can get money out of it.

Also, I spent the last two days without t.v. I just listened to music - okay, technically, I was listening to the cable t.v. music channels in the 900's, but it was music. And it was good. Huh? I have had the t.v. on 24/7 since I was born (save my 1L year of law school in which I watched no t.v.). I got so much done. And I swear my son was more calm. It was, simply, lovely. I love the Airborne Toxic Event. Who knew?

[Perhaps in a few days I'll be telling you that somebody has decided that I should be on lithium.]

Oh, and they said I could take my vacation and stay at my job provided that I did some telecommuting on my vacation. Uh huh. Okay. Whatever.

Make My Day

I had to decline a meeting request from my supervisor because it is scheduled for our upcoming family vacation. She sent me an email back pointing out that I didn't have enough PTO to take vacation, and that the company doesn't provide unpaid leave.

I guess the ball is in your court ma'am.

Go ahead. Make. My. Day.

[Was that cheesy? That was cheesy.]

I can't wait to tell you how this turns out.

Small Shiny Object of a Plan

All systems go for The Franchise.

So, what next? Review and sign the franchise contract, finalize the location choice, negotiate a lease, find a contractor for the build-out that is acceptable to the Mothership, order equipment, order supplies, hire workers, go to training, host an opening party . . . (and I am failing to list a million little steps along the way, I am sure).

And, honestly, none of this seems daunting at all. Honestly. What is the worst that can happen - the bank takes away all of the family's assets. We'll still have each other, I'm assuming. Okay, it does make me throw-up a little in my mouth and get a bit dizzy when I think of what is on the line.

But the other 99% of the time, it just feels right, it's fun and I can't wait for each next step. When I first told my son, the conversation went like this: "Honey, we're going to open a dessert franchise!" Deer in headlights. "BUT YOU'RE AN ATTORNEY." When I explained to him that a mom with a dessert franchise will pretty much make him the king of the fourth grade, he eased up a bit. This is probably not true, of course, because everyone in the class is a vegetarian and allergic to everything and will only eat organic - but still.

Ever since the email I sent my husband in January (Maybe now is a good time to look at opening that franchise), the whole thing has just seemed right. All my life I've chosen the path that has seemed the most responsible, the one with the most (presumed) likelihood of me being able to take care of myself and my son, and the one that seemed like I was making a real difference to the people I served.

But now, all those things that my head was telling me that I should be doing, I'm just ignoring. I'm simply following a small shiny object of instinct because it feels good. (My husband may have just had a heart attack hearing it put that way.) I'm having one heck of a good time. For the first time in eons and eons, I don't feel tired. Oh, don't get me wrong, I could have a margarita and a nap. But I pretty much feel like I am living right now.

One Word

FINANCED!

Now I get the key to the kingdom.

(There was some jumping up and down.)

More to follow . . .

Weekend Treat - Windex

When I get a zit, it's like I sprouted a conjoined twin with its own brain and pulse. These are big, underground, month-long events. I've tried everything. Well, I've tried Proactive. I own Proactive for much the same reason that I own all 12 CDs from the KTel singer and songwriter collection, but that's a different issue.

Proactive doesn't work on me. I remembered that somebody said Windex works. Well, I'm not using the Windex for anything else so I thought I would give it a try. And damn if that stuff didn't zap that sucker into submission. And my nose now has a streak free shine.

Consider me your guinea pig. It works.

Sweet Sweet Revenge..

Yesterday, I was asked to review a contract. I knew right away where it came from - it was drafted by the partner that I used to work for at the big law firm.

Now, one thing I must share with you about this guy is that he had complete disdain and intolerance for typos. You know where this is going. He once had a fit that I had neglected to notice two periods at the end of a sentence. And he once called me into his office to tell me that I used too many introductory clauses. He was known for schooling associates on the appropriate use of underlining. I was paranoid about typos, even though mine were no greater than his, or any other human that worked in a law firm.

But never once did he complain about my legal conclusions. In fact, I was told by another partner that he gave me one of the few positive reviews he had ever heard this guy give.

After the lay off, I agreed to have coffee with him. I didn't think it was fair that he got to pawn the actual laying off process onto HR. I wanted him to look me in the eye and tell me why he put me on the list. Apparently, he couldn't trust my work. All those typos were sloppy.

So it gave me great, great pleasure to tell my supervisor to hold off on signing that document of his that she had me review this morning until he had corrected all the typos. She asked if I had notes about where they were in the document and I said no because there were too many to even start a list. Check and mate, jackass. Check and mate.

Three Random Thoughts

1. I will give credit where credit is due. Although I don't like Glee (or How I Met Your Mother), Neil Patrick Harris doing Dream On is my favorite moment in television history. Ever.

2. They say that it takes the average person at work 20 minutes to regain focus after an interruption. Being far above average, I find that I just stop working for the day.

3. Conversation with my husband last night:

"I would have cleaned for you coming home but instead Catherine and I split a bottle of wine."

"If you ever have the choice between cleaning and having a bottle of wine, you should definitely pick the wine."

Best. Husband. Ever.

Camping

My son (who has wanted to be an attorney since he was 4) is going on his 3rd grade camping trip. They are assigned 4 to a tent.

"Mom, they put Langston and Liam in the same tent."

"Oh no! I thought they didn't get along."

"They don't. They'll probably end up killing each other."

"Well, who are the other kids in the tent with them?"

"Witnesses."

Somebody had a case of the mondays.

My son had a really bad day yesterday. When I picked him up he was on the verge of tears, and by the time we got home he was in tears.

My day wasn't so hot either. When I confirmed that the earliest possible time for The Franchise opening was late fall, I realized I couldn't quit my job to coincide with my son's summer break. This means that my ex-husband's girlfriend, who is a teacher, will be spending the summer days at home with my son. While I sit in cubicle. Doing nothing important and mostly watching the clock.

And then my supervisor got really frustrated with me over something. And then my son's school sent out an email that a creepy man had tried to lure a kid into his car just one block away.

I was literally sick to my stomach by the email and that someone else was going to be staying at home with my son this summer. When I was an attorney, it was justifiable. I was actually doing things that made a difference to people, and I was socking away a crazy amount for his university. But now I am doing none of that.

So when my husband called, I broke down in tears. Some days it's just harder than others to see how it's all going to work out.

My son heard me crying in the kitchen and he came and wrapped himself around me.

Six More Months?

I found out recently that the time from signing The Franchise Agreement to opening is about 6 months. Of course, it says that in the disclosure document but I was assuming it couldn't possibly take that long. Argh. More of this for a while then . . .

Despite where I fall on the corporation's org chart, I believe that my opinions and contributions are as equally important as everyone else's. Oh, and I used to be this company's outside counsel so at one time they actually were.

My supervisor (supervisor is a word that is used a lot around here) , however, is very clear that (1) I fall below her, so a certain amount of upward asskissing is required, and (2) that she should asskiss her supervisor. Accordingly, she feels that I need to suck up to her supervisor too. You can see how this is inconsistent with my feeling that I don't need to asskiss anyone. Furthermore, I have strict instructions to not do anything without going through her first, so you can see how I would not be inclined to suck up outside the chain of command, even if I was an asskisser.

I was in a meeting with the aforementioned hierarchy chain, just the three of us. I was being my usual, helpful, assertive self. And my supervisor felt she needed to suck up for me when I professionally challenged Number One's conclusion. Oh no you don't. You may not suck up on my behalf.

She then asked me for a matrix document summarizing the meeting. Do we really need pictures and charts to summarize everything? Matrix reminds me of Keanu Reeves, which reminds me of Bill and Ted, so there is no way I would be able to design a matrix document without labeling it the Most Excellent Matrix Document. Actually, now, I kind of want to do it just so I can label it that.

Weekend Treat - Crystal Devote Earrings

Ooooooo! Pretty.

They look like something Betty Draper from Mad Men would wear.

I couldn't resist. Happy Weekend to me (and you).

Crystal Devote Earrings. JCrew.com

The Wild Wild West

More opinions on States . . .

When looking through my change for afternoon coffee money, I found a Wyoming State quarter. It says, "The Equality State." Apparently nobody at the Mint has seen The Laramie Project.

I once had an opportunity to deliver a document to the State Capital in Cheyenne. For reasons I don't entirely remember, I was told by a law firm partner that the document had to be stamped by the Wyoming Secretary of State on December 31. January 1 was too late. And it just happened to be December 31.

What was clear was that it was entirely my problem to figure out how to get this done, despite the fact that on-line or fax processing was not available for this type of document. And, oh yeah, I WASN'T ACTUALLY IN WYOMING.

So I did what any panicked 4th year associate would do. I high-tailed it to Cheyenne, on a moment's notice, in a wind and snow storm that was threatening to shut down the State.

I was in a total panic. On my way out the door, I decided to take a chance at getting in touch with the SoS office to assess the likelihood of them processing my document if I could make it there. (1) They answered their phone. What kind of State office was this? (2) They didn't even ask if I had first tried to find the answer on my own on their web page. The lady just calmly told me that she didn't foresee a problem (and I am thinking "oh lady I am so going to quote you on that when someone at your office tells me later that they can't do it") and that, once I got to the building, I should turn left at the buffalo. Ha. Very funny lady. Tell the panicked associate to turn at the buffalo.

Despite the storm, I got into Cheyenne and to the building in record time because do you know what? There is no rush hour traffic in Cheyenne. Nope. You just go right to the front door of the SoS. Well, first you trudge through a snow drift in your open-toed shoes because this is Wyoming in the middle of winter.

When I stepped inside, I looked for the metal detector. I can't remember the last time I was at a State building and didn't have to go through a metal detector. Well, no metal detector, but a dozy guard was able to point me in the direction of the buffalo. Right there. One real stuffed buffalo. And there, beyond the stuffed buffalo, was the SoS office. Thank God, the line was not out the door. In fact, when I got inside, there was no line at all. I walked right up to the counter. And the lady asked if I was the person that had called. And then she offered me gum. And told me to relax.

Considering it was New Year's Eve, I wanted to stay and party like it was 1999 with the staff of the Wyoming Secretary of State. They were all so friggin' nice.

But anyway, The Equality State - no.

Break for the Hills

As you know, I am not watching The Hills this season because it is so ridiculous. However, I do query why Heidi is throwing a birthday for Enzo and whether his parents are appropriately concerned. (I may have caught some of the last episode.)

Yes We Have No Bananas

Stop telling the new-hires that the company provides healthy snacks for its employees when, in fact, there are never any healthy snacks actually provided. Some people may be swayed to accept employment here based on the promise of snacks. Some people. I'm just saying.

I once worked at a law firm where every day at 3:00 they would put out Gardetto's snack mix, chips, mixed nuts, Hershey bars and beer. That, my friends, that is a healthy snack. Why did I quit that job? They also had muffins delivered every morning and everybody would peel the top off the muffins and leave the bottoms in the box.

Seriously, why did I quit that job? It was perfectly fine but I left because some other attorney promised me that if I came to work for him that he and I would become the go-to team across the nation for our area of the law. (I asked him about the snack situation during my interview and he said there was wine and cheese once a week. Once a week. I should have known then.) He laid me off 9 months later. The moral? Never turn your back on the one that provides the Hershey bars and beer.

(Incidentally, the snack food firm also laid off a large number of associates later that year. And stopped providing muffins. But I'm told that those that remain still get Hershey bars and beer. I don't even like Hershey bars, or really even beer. Unless they are free and it is 3:00.)

A Waste of MAC Lipglass

I have never been one to use my feminine wiles or sexuality to get anything. It actually makes me cringe when I see women doing that.

I went to every interview in an Ann Taylor suit, scarf around the neck, and opaque hose so that the only skin that was showing was my face and hands. I never once put on an outfit in my life thinking that a guy might find it sexy; rather, every outfit in high school and college was designed to inspire jealously in my female friends, because that's what friends are for.

However.

I've been rejected by two banks so far for The Franchise financing. My meeting with a third bank was actually in person, with a guy in the business loan department. So . . . I put on my prettiest flirty dress and did the smokey eye (guys don't know that the smokey eye is inappropriate for the day). I fluffed the hair and touched-up the MAC lipglass before heading in the door.

I approached the teller and asked her where the loan officer was. She pointed to a desk with a guy WHO WAS TWELVE. Okay, maybe - maybe - he was 24. But the point is (1) for all he cared I could have come in using a walker; and (2) A multi-hundred thousand dollar decision is in the hands of some guy who is probably going to go out drinking until 2 tonight and then return home to his futon to play some xbox or laugh at my personal income statement.

Life is Bizarre

So, I got a random email yesterday. Apparently, my father smokes pot. HUH. I am verging between finding this hysterical and thinking that I need to ground him.

My father - the one with the plantars wart. The one who was a C level executive at a major company.

[Before you get any ideas, I put myself through law school. And Sallie Mae would like me to remind you that I am still putting myself through law school.]

Where were we. Oh yeah - my father smokes pot. I know that these days it's a franchised business (not the one I am going into, mind you) and legal and all that. But he's a grandfather. And a bagpiper. And thought about going back to university to become a minister. And currently travels the world teaching. And apparently likes the bad-ass weed.

I guess this is not entirely inconsistent with the man I know. But what makes it strange is it does seem inconsistent with the father I knew that was married to my mother. Life is bizarre. Hey, that gives me an idea. Maybe I should start a line of t-shirts that says "Life is Bizarre." With a stick figure. Smoking pot.

Book Club

Real phone call from this Saturday:

BF "I am so hungover."
Me "Where did you go last night?"
BF "Book Club."

Now, that right there is delightful in and of itself. But it gets better. I asked what book they were discussing and apparently no book was discussed. Rather, their book club discussed the legalization of marijuana and - get this - my father's ancient and deeply rooted plantar wart. My father's feet are legend at book clubs I have never even attended (but clearly need to start).

My father lives several states away. Life is so bizarre sometimes.

[Well, my father once had this big wart and one time at BFs we were talking about home remedies, including home remedies for wart removal, and I mentioned that warts grow roots and that my dad had one with roots the length of his foot. I do not know whether this root part is true, or whether he told me that to convince me that I had to go to the doctor to get one removed when I was 12 and spent the summers at the club pool.]

Weekend Treat Jeggings, Yes Jeggings

This week I attended a blue jeans party. It was hosted by two friends at a jeans store and there was wine and discounts. (Note to self - best marketing plan ever: wine and 10% discount) I mean, 10% isn't really much at all, but after a glass of wine I was convinced that I would never, ever again have the opportunity to take advantage of such a fantastic opportunity on cute jeans. (Clearly I need to rebuild my tolerance.)

The sales person told me that I should try on some jeggings. Ah, do they come with an angry Samantha Ronson and a bad spray tan?

Considering I was at the home of the $200 jean, and the jeggings (jean/leggings) were much less than that, I was willing to try. And they were not too Lohan at all. It turns out, I love them. In fact, they are all I will be wearing this summer. I saw them on a variety of body types that evening and I can tell you that, despite being skin tight, they made everybody look thinner. Hello! I love them so much.

Picture: Urban Outfitters. (The brand I bought, IT Lola Jeggings)

What Would Kate Spade Do?

Dilemma. What Would Kate Spade Do?

There is a sweet, swanky little shopping district within walking distance from my house. It is the obvious choice for The Franchise location, which likes to place itself among cute, swanky little stores. There's good walking traffic and a big art fest in the streets every year.

Except, there is one other store that makes a product similar to the Franchise's in that area (in fact, it's the only other store selling the product within the city limits). It's independent, and the residents around the district tend to cringe when a franchise comes in (but they do - Earls, Houstons, Ink, Panera, Starbucks).

Now, to be perfectly frank, the independent store's product is not as good as The Franchise's. In fact, although I love the product so much that I am making it my life, I just never went to the independent store because the product was not what it should have been there. Also, the store is a bit grungy.

There's a large possibility that The Franchise, if located there, would put them out of business. Business is survival of the fittest. This is my family's future. But we know the guys that own and operate the independent store (they also happen to sell an Italian Wedding Soup that my son loves and they make good coffee) and we like them. We like these people.

Go for the obvious choice because I am betting my family's assets, or consider the family that is running the store with the sub-standard product. I guess I know how this has to play out.

You Can't Touch This

My son will not put up with The Hills. (And, probably, I should not be subjecting him to that crap anyway. Honestly, even I can't stomach this season.) So when he switched channels to Glee, I didn't object.

Insert new Glee rant here:

This week's episode was about rehabilitating bad songs to make them good again, including Ice Ice Baby and Total Eclipse of the Heart. AH, EXCUSE ME. Those are and always have been supremely most excellent songs. If you were not driving around campus in your friend's 5.0 with the top down so your hair could blow WHILE listening to Vanilla Ice then you, my friend, were not doing university properly. (Margaritas may have been involved.)

Also, did you know that Meatloaf wrote Total Eclipse of the Heart. It's so obvious now that you know, right? Only the man who brought you "But there ain't no Coup de Ville hiding at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box" could also bring you "We're living in a powder keg and giving off a spark."

Oh Glee Glee Glee, first Journey now Vanilla Ice and Bonnie Tyler. Some things you just can't touch. (Which reminds me, they also included You Can't Touch This in this last episode. Another classic.) And what's with that dark haired virginal chick. She seems like the type that wants to discuss maxi pads with you.

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Thanks for all the book recs! I appreciate very much all the comments and links. You're the best readers in all of blogdom. Next up, Love in the Time of Cholera because of the two opposing comments.

My apologies, Puerto Rico

Anonymous, you are absolutely right. If I am going to be a smartass, I should learn how to spell Puerto Rico.

I Need a New Book

Recommendations Please.

I just finished The Help on the plane. It was stunning on so many levels. Two thumbs up.

Not wanting to be left out, I was determined to pick up The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo at the airport for my next read. All they had in the OKC airport was The Girl who Played with Fire by the same author. The OKC book kiosk has this deal where you can return your used book and get 50% of your money back.

I am inclined to fly back to OKC to return the book. There's math in it. Coming from someone who had to take algebra twice to pass it, I do not appreciate this. It's one of those book where I have to keep rereading pages to figure out whats going on. It's one thing if I am reading a contract and someone is paying me my reasonable hourly rate to go back and read things, but nobody is paying me anything to read The Girl who Played with Fire.

Anyway, I need suggestions. I would even plow further into the Stieg Larsson books if someone thinks it is worth it. What are your favorite books - new or old, classic, cult or otherwise? And then, of course, I will tell you with complete honesty what I thought about them after reading them.

Airport Gate - Oklahoma City

I have to tell you, after a day of hanging out in The Franchise's cute little shops and being provided whatever treat I wanted at my slightest whim, and being provided new coffee treats before I had even finished the last, coming back to Cube World sucked. Nobody today has given me any treats or fetched me coffee.

I should have known that my transition back to my real for-now life was going to be rough when I noted that coming back this way I was not going through Austin but Oklahoma City. You know how I like to pass judgement at the people waiting at the airport gates. Let's just say, I am 100% certain I was the only person at the OKC gate wearing Chloe (unless Stella McCartney is now designing active wear for the University of Oklahoma). (Okay, my Chloe top is from ebay, and of dubious authenticity, but still.)

Then, when I was in the Oklahoma City airport, I noticed a lack of recycling bins. No no no, Oklahoma. It's okay. You contribute enough to the rest of the country, that I am sure we can overlook this. I have an idea. Let's make Porto Rico a state, and Oklahoma a territory. That way, the flag stays the same, we gain some culture and some beaches and we lose, well, nothing.

I must admit, even Texas has its faults (Bush) and sometimes Texans drive me crazy too. Someone was telling me that I was going to have a tough go at making The Franchise work given the new health care laws. Yeah. Uh huh. I can see how having a bunch of healthy people walking around is going to be bad for my business.

Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, does anybody know anybody that might want to a buy a sassy midcentury modern property in Colorado so we can get me back to my happy place of dessert and coffee and we can get this party started?

[No offense intended to Mean Jean from OKC.]

On Fire

Friday was the initial meeting with The Franchise. This involved me going around to a bunch of their stores and sampling products. Everyone kept giving me delicious treats and coffee and the whole thing was so truly magical that I half expected to see an oompa loompa or Gene Wilder singing at me with big, buggy wide eyes. And I was all, look at me, I am not in a Cube.

That Friday, The Franchise just happened to be catering an event at my old law school and I was invited to go see what that was about. I couldn't help but be reminded of the first time I walked through those same big law school doors out into the law quad. I certainly didn't go to law school to open a franchise. Part of me asked myself what the hell I was doing. I'm a lawyer. I loved law school. And I really, really loved practicing law. If I could go back to that 1L year and tell myself that this was going to take me on a path to a franchise, would I have done things differently in my law career to avoid that?

I was too tired and too overwhelmed after my day at The Franchise and the law school, and at the prospect of visiting my mom's grave the next day to know exactly how I felt about The Franchise. I decided to reserve judgment for 24 hours.

Visiting the grave for the first time in 9 years was - well, it was hard. I am 100% certain that I felt my mom say, "Thanks for coming. Now go have some fun." Honestly, I feel her just as much, if not more, everywhere else.

My good friend Mean Jean who painted me an aubergine (I've been itching to type that out) asked me later that afternoon if I was on fire about The Franchise after having spent the day with them. And I didn't know. Part of me is not done with the law yet.

On Sunday, when I was waiting for my flight home, it hit me. Hell yeah I'm on fire to start this Franchise. I want to start it NOW. I miss the products already. I can't wait to introduce it here. And none of this would have been possible had I not practiced law and taken (and sometimes been put) on the path I was. Yes, Mean Jean, I am on fire now.

Weekend Treat - Fresh

I have found the cradle of civilization and it is Northpark Mall in Dallas, Texas. Barneys, Kate Spade and Fresh. Before my trip, I ran into Sephora to get something and I impulse bought this Fresh Citron de Vigne parfum because it smelled sooo very good.

Then I got to the car and I thought to myself, self, why did you just buy something lemoney? You are just going to smell like a housecleaning product.

But then I tried it again at home. It doesn't smell like a cleaning product at all (I'm guessing). Rather, it's just simple and sophisticated and wearable all at the same time. And do you know what - they have a whole Fresh store here in Dallas. I can probably get everything Fresh I want at the Sephora back home, but still - a whole store. Mmmmmmmm.

Altogether now, "She's fresh. So exciting. She's so exciting to me." I've been singing that all day and I just had to pass it along to someone else's head.