New Blog

I doubt there is anyone still reading over here, but I wanted a change, so I have started a new blog. I’m posting the link and hope that you’ll come visit over there if you feel like reading, and hopefully laughing:

todrinkandwrite.wordpress.com

Thanks everyone for the comments, and for your friendship and support of the Legally Married blog.

Wear Teal Day – This Friday

Teal.

Wear it!

This Friday is National Wear Teal Day and I am asking that everyone who can to wear teal to support my mother-in-law in her fight against ovarian cancer.

Now, there seems to be a conspiracy against me finding the perfect teal, because as Attorney at Large said, true teal exists only as a platonic ideal. So it’s everything from this: 

To this

 

To this

 

 Whatever shade of teal you wear, you’ll be helping to promote awareness of and activism against a disease that is prevalent and that affects women daily. Did you know…

  • There is no early detection test for ovarian cancer?
  • One in 71 women will develop the disease in their lifetime?
  •  More than 15,000 women die of ovarian cancer each year in the US?

 I’ve contacted a volunteer organization to try to give my time to promote a cure. And, I’m promoting awareness and supporting my mother-in-law by wearing teal. I hope you’ll join with me and do the same. If you choose to blog about it, I will post a link up later this week. If you would be willing to share your photos, so that I can in turn share them with my mother-in-law and father-in-law, but you don’t want to blog about it or don’t have a blog of your own, I would love for you to email me at legalwifeintx@gmail.com so I can share them with her on Friday when I see her.

 From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate your support of my mother-in-law. Also, my little “nephew” BB says “Thanks for teal-ing out!” (My lovely sister arranged a “Wear Teal” day early at her office since she wouldn’t be able to participate this Friday.)

BB rocks the teal!

College Colors Day and Sic ‘Em!

I’m linking up with Mrs. Jones for college football season, which kicks off this weekend!

In the world of college football, I’m a relatively new fan. A lot of people grew up supporting a specific school, wearing Longhorn onesies or Crimson Tide jackets of Horned Frog cheerleader outfits or something like that. But, even though I grew up in a sports family, I didn’t grow up with a strong college football affiliation. My dad played college football at a small school that no longer has a football program, and my mother, the consummate hater of sports throughout my childhood years, certainly didn’t identify with any team. She’s the kind of person who refers to sports as my dad’s “mistress” and used to make us children do rankings of who we thought our father loved more, God, sports or his children.But I digress.

Anyway, so I grew up collecting Major League Baseball cards, wearing Dallas Cowboys gear and singing the “I’m a Dallas Mavericks fan” commercial jingle. But I didn’t grow up sporting a specific college team’s colors.

And then I fell in love.

Not with my husband, although that happened soon after, but with Baylor University. And I made up for lost time. Not so much, admittedly, while I was in school, because it’s a little hard to fall in love with one of the very, very worst programs in the BCS. I fell in love, though, with the atmosphere and the camaraderie of the college game day.

Of course, Ducks helped.

He grew up in TCU’s backyard but is now one of the most loyal BU fans in existence. Dating and marrying someone who’s equally as big a sports fan as my father helped a lot, because my schedules began to revolve around our team, and our conversations began to trend around which recruits were taking their official visits and how we might be able to telepathically convince them to come to our school.

And then there was the era of Art Briles.

Which is, of course, better known as the RG3 era (so far).

RGIII Being RGIII

This was one of the greatest nights in Baylor history.

It’s amazing – the way it feels to be a fan of a perpetual cellar-dweller, and then the difference as you watch your school emerge into the name that’s on everyone’s lips. Jim Rome derided us as “Scrubby lil’ Baylor,” then took it back, begrudgingly, after our sports programs made history as the winningest university in the NCAA. Ever.

So, that leads to the colors thing. Today is college colors day and I’m “flinging my green and gold afar “(that’s a line from the alma mater)” in a green shirt for work, and still sporting my teal-green nails. Since I’ll never be a good photographer, especially while trying to self-portrait with an iPhone camera, I am offering up some historical photos with the fam (sorry about the dots. No one in my family is aware of this blog, so I don’t have their permission to share their personal photos online).  

Me + sister at the Elite Eight (I’m on the left). I know you don’t recognize me with that yellow thing on my face!

Ducks, me and my sisters

Happy College Colors Day and sic ‘em, Bears!

Heavy Hearted

So, I try to usually be funny, and I can occasionally be a little pouty or whiny on this blog, but today I’m genuinely heavy hearted.

Last week, we found out that my mother-in-law’s cancer has returned. It’s been a recurring theme for the past several years, but I try not to talk about it too much (see here, here, here). She was first diagnosed more than three years ago, and has been such a brave, strong survivor throughout. She’s done everything from continuing to exercise to becoming vegan in her quest to remain healthy.

It is so very frustrating to see someone who does all the right things have to continue to struggle. It’s heart-rending to know that she’s having trouble with breathing because the cancer is attacking her. It started as ovarian cancer and has spread to a couple of different places – lymph nodes and lungs.

So, I’m asking for two things from you, blog friends. One is your prayers and support, and the other is your advice. We live four hours from my in-laws, and thanks to law school, we’re tied down to San Antonio for at least another year. We can’t be there on a daily basis to help them with meals or to drive her to chemo sessions. We are doing what we can – calling, texting, praying, sending cards, but what else can we do to support them?

Today, just as a little something to make myself feel better, I painted my nails teal, which is the color for ovarian cancer.

Image

I sent the picture to my mother-in-law just to show her I was being supportive, and I’m spending lunch shopping for clothes for “Wear Teal Day” which is Sept. 7. But, what else can we do? Have any of you been in a similar situation and can you offer any advice. Thanks in advance for the kind words, kind thoughts and prayers.

 

PS If anyone would like the link to the blog about my MIL’s cancer survivor journey, just post your email address in the comments and I will send it to you.

I’m Not That Crazy

Most of the time, I am a pretty reasonable, responsible, sedate adult woman.

Most of the time, I do act my age (all of it – all 28 years) or better. In fact, one of my friends in her late 30s has actually mentioned feeling like we just “click” and relate well to each other because I’m so mature for my late 20s (a time in which many, I suppose, still have a predilection for Girls Gone Wild and one-night stands with inappropriate men).

But, anyway, most of the time I act in totally responsible adult ways – paying the bills on time, calculating the per ounce price of generic versus brand name green beans, driving close to the speed limit. There’s just one area where I can’t seem to control myself, and where my personality does a U-turn.

It’s when I decide to accost teenage boys.

Now, it’s not quite as nefarious as it sounds. I’m not showing up on their doorsteps dressed in nothing but a trench coat and waiting to lure them into all manner of vice.

No, I accost them right out in the street, or in the gym, wherever I happen to see them.

There’s probably a technical name for this sickness, you know, something like Beiber Fever (not that I would ever dream of throwing myself at Justin Beiber – perish the long-haired effeminate thought). But, at the root of it is this – I’m just too proud of my alma mater.

Yes, I can’t keep from spewing admiration and word vomit at the high school students being recruited to play marquee sports at my university. On two occasions, I’m not proud to say, I’ve actually REACHED. OUT. AND. TOUCHED. THESE. KIDS. (on the arm, don’t get too weirded out) without permission.

My voice goes to an unnaturally high pitch and I squeak out some brilliance like, “Hey – welcome to BU!” at a pitch that makes dogs whimper. I get giddy about this. I consider it a celebrity sighting. Seriously, if you asked me whether I’d rather meet Kobe Bryant or the player I accosted recently (whose name I can’t write because I might die of EMBARASSMENT), the choice is unmistakable. I’m going for the 17-year-old kid who was probably being born about 30 miles away from my home town with I was in fifth grade.

I had the chance to meet (and by meet, I mean follow, track down and tap on the arm) the previously mentioned player recently. Shame of shame, I recognized his face from too much Twitter and online research. At least, I thought he looked familiar, and when I saw his name printed on the back of his All-Star jersey, I went in for the kill. What brilliant statement did I use to attract his attention? “We’re looking forward to watching you play at [school name] next year.” If there were a Pulitzer for introductions, that one would have undoubtedly been a unanimous winner. But, it gets better. He smiled, he was gracious and he took in my husband’s neon highlighter shirt with [school name] blazoned across it with a smile (By the way, the only reason said husband wasn’t the first person to approach this player with a fanboy attitude was that he probably had his nose buried in his player memorization flash cards. If only that approach worked in law school as well as it does for learning rosters).

Of course, just shouting out the kid on the street wasn’t enough. I also immediately, before even getting to the car, had to find him via my mobile phone and tweet him, saying, “Hey, I just met you, and yes I’m crazy. But you go to my school. So follow me maybe.” Or something of that nature.

This wasn’t even the worst of my collegiate athlete celebrity encounters. On the very worst, I forced my college student sister to take a picture with a high-ranking incoming player. Okay, multiple pictures with multiple high-ranking, signed recruits. With her camera. While I waxed eloquent about “Oh my gosh, we’re so excited you’re coming here next year.” You know, a reprise of that speech that won me the verbal Pulitzer. She was furious.

But I never really pay attention to anything said by a 19-year-old wearing a t-shirt with a cat on it. Really – surely I don’t look that crazy.

Ho hum… School Starts Again

Totally anti-climactic.

That’s how I would describe the beginning of the end of law school.

Every other year, I’ve gotten up, made Ducks a lunch, taken his picture, and all that jazz. This year, I slept in, no photo was taken and he had to take leftovers to school. It’s amazing – the difference in this year from the others. The 1L year was all about anticipation. We shopped for school supplies, did reading assignments together so we could discuss them and anxiously prepared for the heart-stopping Socratic method.

The second year, we weren’t sure how upper-level classes would differ from the 1L classes, so we were a little nervous that year as well. Plus, we had the pressure of finding an internship, finishing a 25-page writing requirement and worrying about job prospects (Notice that I say “we” on all this… weird… since I’m mostly just the bystander/cheerleader).

This year is not exactly coasting, but we know what to expect and we know what we have to do. It’s more about maintaining the status quo – passing classes and maintaining the internship and focusing on finding jobs. That part is easy for me, since – no joke – I get offered a job at least once every couple of months. Last night, I got offered a job at a mixer last night. That’s just how I roll… I guess.

One good thing about the coasting? My husband now is convinced he can go to every college football game played this season. He’s even requested tickets to go to Morgantown, WV, to watch our newest Big 12 team in action. And at that, I have to say, “Slow down, buddy!” Just because you’re not as freaked out about school doesn’t mean you’re rich. So, that “good” – that was just a tad bit sarcastic.

One more year. We can make it. How’s your year starting off, fellow law wives? And, how’s everyone else doing? :)

The Seedy Underbelly of Technology

So, despite the fact that I work with social media a lot in my job…

And, despite the fact that I’m currently writing to you on a BLOG…

I kind of hate technology.

Why?

Because technology, rather than being the Great Enabler, is more like the Great Preventer.

We live in a big city. I think it’s in the top ten in the nation, so the possibility of me encountering people I don’t want to see is a rare one. I think I’ve only run into a co-worker while grocery shopping in workout clothes and glasses ONCE. In three years. That’s not too shabby.

But, thanks to technology, everyone has the potential of breaking free of their neatly segmented areas of my life and colliding. For example…

Last night, I had three things on my schedule after work. There was an obligation with the husband’s law firm and a Junior League meeting. Both sound thrillingly fun, right? But, the third was MY FANTASY FOOTBALL DRAFT. Obviously, it was impossible for me to miss that and end up with a shafty team ALL SEASON. Or have someone draft Chad Johnson (the artist formerly known as Ochocinco) for me or something else equally heartrending and terrible like that.

So, the draft was the choice for the evening. And it was great, and I got a pretty decent team (even though I didn’t get a top three QB. Whatever.). But, I had to worry about whether someone from the draft party was going to post on Facebook that I was with them, instead of at the JL committee meeting. And that’s just a pain. I didn’t tell JL that I was home sick or that my imaginary pet wildebeest had gotten poisoned or that I was out serving lemonade to lepers or something. I just said I couldn’t go, but the oversharing, geo-locating, information-vomitting social media world (especially with all the tagging, bleh) caused me grief. And it’s not the first time this has happened.

I see kids (including all of my sisters) overposting on social media all the time, whether it’s pics on Instagram or Foursquare check-ins or Facebook statuses. Worrying about people finding out things I wouldn’t choose to tell them is part of why I never share my name or much personally identifiable info on the blog (although I don’t mind in email, etc.)

How do you disengage from technology and its inherent issues without disengaging from society as a whole? As a parent or future parent, how do you protect kids from something that’s going to be practically native to them? And how, oh how, do you get to skip out on boring meetings and do fun things without someone ratting you out? (That last one is obviously the most important.)

Have a great day!