Finale

Yes yes, I knew I said I would close this once I got to Boston, but I thought I should add an ending to the "Well, did she or didn't she get an offer?" mystery.

She did. Giddy-up.

Adios

And here it is, my last night in San Diego.

It's uncommonly hot and I'm sticky from packing all day, but still I'm tearing at having to go. It's been a long, eventful summer, and I thank you for sharing it with me. The blog will be closed after my return to Boston, so I'll take the opportunity now to mention a few good people who have helped me along:

In no particular order,

The Captain, who despite talking with me almost everyday, still read the blog.
Jenski, who wins The Most Active Reader award.
Elite Racer and the Abstract Concept, who checked in with me every so often to make sure I didn't spend all my spare time blogging.
The Bride, who loves dessert just as much as I love dessert.
Tiggsy, who made my blog a part of her morning routine.
Humble 'bee, who read every entry but didn't let on until the very end.
Good Neighbor, without whom I might have gone a little crazy at work. I will miss his wicked sense of humor, his wife's tremendous tenderness, and their sons' unreasonable cuteness.
Ms. J, with whom I will get together at Cabot's where I will tell her everything that didn't make the blog.
Boababa, who taught me to tango.
LRev, who warned me against not being cool enough.
Munch, who said my writing made her laugh.
Big Mo, who made me laugh.
Red Beard, because he, as I have said before, is the last great hope of the Republic.
Samir Santiago, who put me in touch with the managing partner's daughter.
First and Second Roomies, who got me back in touch with my Asian side.
Coolpeople, who have their own companion blog and who have supplied me with plenty of summer photos.
Wicked Cool New Bostonian, who swapped places with me and has kept me up to date on his new adventures in Beantown.
Yalie, whom I never have mentioned before but who talked me through many a confusing situation at work.
Ms. Mentor, whom I also never have mentioned before but who called me every week to see how I was doing.
Little Sis, who blogged before me and who will blog after me.

Thanks for holding my hand. I'll be in touch.

Road rage

Usually, I do a good job of keeping my temper.

But not when I get behind the wheel. Today, the Chargers are at home against the Seahawks in a preseason (i.e., meaningless) game. I live near Qualcomm stadium, and given that I never have had to deal with Chargers traffic, I made a wrong turn into the stadium parking lot. The Chargers were pretty nice about it, actually. Even though they made me pay twenty bucks to get into the parking lot, they promised to give me my money back when I left. They even had a special "Made a wrong turn into the parking lot" ticket to give me so I could show I should get my money back.

Making it to the exit, however, was more involved and difficult than it should have been. They made me go to a special exit, and I had the most difficult time getting there. Ropes, cones, and highway medians blocked every way I wanted to go. Twenty minutes of driving around and around were enough to make a screaming banshee out of me. Eff this and eff that. When I finally found the appropriate exit, I literally burned rubber to get the eff out of there.

Driving is a big case of the yucks.

Cry, cry, cry

I parked my car in the driveway and then I cried. For a good five minutes. Had I not been worried about the neighbors seeing I could have stayed for a good while more.

It reminded me of my first day on my own in San Diego, actually. After I dropped off the Captain at the airport that day, I sat in my apartment and I cried. For an hour. After that hour I mopped myself up and shook off my fear. I was ready for my summer on my own, I told myself, and it was time to get moving.

And a whole lot of moving there was. I simply cannot believe it is all over; there was so much life crammed into these twelve brief weeks. I made friends with people from all walks of life, I became enamored with a whole new area of law, I learned to surf. I began considering the partner track as a viable career option, and I fell in love with a part of the country of which I had been extremely skeptical. Put simply, I grew.

Growing is hard. So that's why I cried.

Right back where I started from

After tomorrow, my adventure as a pretend attorney will be over; Summer Associate Summer Camp has come to a close. Just like any camper, I was homesick at the start, but now I am dreading my departure and trying not to cry.

And failing.

Winding down

I'm on to my last week, and I'm trying to avoid the idea of leaving. All summer I have been diligent about crossing off the days on my calendar, but lately I have been loathe to do it. All summer I have regularly updated this blog as a way of marking the time, but lately I have had less to say. By documenting my days, I acknowledge that they are complete, and that the summer soon will be over. I miss my friends and my family terribly, but also I have grown to care about my work and my people here.

I suppose it's true that we never know what we have until it's gone.

Or maybe this is merely another example of my reveling in sadness. That's what the Abstract Concept would say, anyway.

Rocky Mountain High

Weekends rock.

I have returned from a weekend away, and already I want another one. This weekend the Captain and I met up in Denver, because even though it’s not exactly the middle of the country, it’s the closest thing to the middle of the country that’s worth going to. (His words, not mine. Midwesterners, take up your grievances with him.)

Denver is remarkable. San Diego is a beautiful town, but it doesn't have that certain quality that sets Denver apart: the Rockies. Blue Ridge Wannabes though they may be, they are majestic and they are beautiful. Waitresses pull up the shades at sunset just so they can show off their views. To hell with modesty.

Friday night we rolled into Red Rocks, a stunning natural amphitheater just outside Denver. Sitting alongside the stoners and the bobos, the Captain and I enjoyed a stellar show by Ryan Adams. The setting could not have been better: temperate weather, resplendent sky, and rockin’ music amid radiant red rocks. Ryan Adams wasn't bad to look at, either.

Saturday we drove on up to Fairplay, which the savvier among you might recall was formerly known as South Park. Yes, that South Park. We made the hour-long drive among cattle ranches and more big sky just so we could have the Captain’s favorite breakfast. It was crowded and the service was a little slow, so much of my energy went to staying calm as I waited for my food. The Captain tried conversing with me, but ultimately I had to cut him off. “I’m sorry, I really can’t talk right now.” When the food finally did come, however, it was delicious.

Later on we went on a hike. As we tried to pay the nominal fee for admission to the park, the park ranger informed us that our rental car already had an annual pass to all Colorado state parks. This puzzled us. It was a rental car, and its license plates were from Texas. But we went along for the ride, and took in some breathtaking vistas. [FN1]

The mysterious park pass was only one of several fortuitous turns which led the Captain to call us Team Success. Our flights arrived right on time, we got to the concert right before Lucinda Williams, and we were able to meet up with the Captain's freshman year roommate.

We also narrowly escaped thunderstorm after thunderstorm. Everytime we wanted to do something outside, it was sunny and gorgeous. When it did rain, however, the spectacle of rain and thunderclouds rolling across the plains was amazing. It slaked my thirst for moisture, and perhaps more importantly, for variety. I love America.

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FN1. See photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/khc2008/DenverDelight

Day before Denver

Today was the longest. day. ever.

I'm headed tomorrow to Denver to see the Captain and I absolutely cannot wait.

See you back here next week.