It’s Friday night and instead of sipping on a cocktail at happy hour, I am sifting through tax regulations.
My volunteer gig for this spring is with the Dallas Community Tax Centers – a non-profit which provides free tax preparation services to low and moderate income individuals.
I worked with a similar VITA program in Minneapolis.
Taking advanced tax law classes at night after work was very draining. It made me rethink my perennial flirtation with getting a second degree.
The busiest part of my winter is always after the holiday season ends – my clients are ready to start ambitious projects, we have an all-team meeting in Minnesota this coming February, and tax season is rearing its ugly head.
I’m volunteering with a community tax center again this year. That means that I am joining a hoard of accountants to provide free tax services to low-and-moderate income individuals in the Dallas area.
I’m turning 26 in about a month and I’m ending the year on a rather unexpected note. This past year was marked by transitioning from law school life, a failed relationship, my burgeoning corporate career, and being fabulous.
I know it’s time to post when I get the concerned “are you alive?” emails from readers. Well, I’m still here, and it has been a hilarious couple of weeks.
Let’s start with the most cliché shot of Minneapolis ever: the stone arch bridge:
Cee Cee Russell at the Gay 90’s:
There are some hardcore bikers at LA Fitness. I want to buy a vintage canary yellow moped and park it next to this:
Technology failed me during these past two weeks. This is how I started the morning:
If you soften your gaze and back away slowly, the fail whale will appear.
Blue screens lit up my work computer throughout the weekend and the beginning of the week. I also caught some version of the plague Saturday night, but meetings and computer repair issues brought my germy-body to the office on Monday and Tuesday.
At times the sinus pressure was so great that my right eye would start pouring as I talked to coworkers. I’m pretty sure they wanted to swat me away with a Lysol wipe.
That random break and the great people I’ve met along the way have allowed me to create a career for myself. That is why I try to recommend my qualified friends for open positions as strongly as I can without being obnoxious.
What a year.
I started the year as a 3L law student living in a mouse infested apartment building in Whittier.
My weeks were hectic. I spent my time jetting between my last few classes, my internship in the suburbs, tax training, and a public defender clerkship in downtown St. Paul.
Things changed quickly when I secured a permanent position at my company and started working full-time in February. There were also drag shows, long nights at Jetset, and blizzards.
The snow melted and classes ended quietly. Pride came and went, I turned 25, and I finally moved out of my ghettotastic apartment.
Work got busy once I moved. Drag shows and dancing were exchanged for Netflix marathons. I was promoted at work and got good at making brownies and mojitos.
By the time of my Miami trip I was 20 pounds heavier than I was at the beginning of the year.
I took the love handles to Miami anyway, which was fairly epic.
I started personal training at LA Fitness again upon returning, so I was horribly sore once New Year’s Eve rolled around. I was one of the DDs for New Year’s despite the best attempts of some people in our group.
My goals for this year include working harder, spending more time on creative projects, and losing these 20 pounds. Hopefully my grueling morning workouts help me get there.
Ending the year plump and employed isn’t bad, but 2012 will be better.
I just met a student from my old law school at Dunn Brothers. I managed to calm the 1L about her upcoming final. I also gave her some leads about clinics and jobs.
Those who succeeded in law school were either the manic-workhorses or those with solid mentors (or, more likely, a combination of both.) The quick advice from an older student is invaluable and something I found in the form of blogs.
The conversation made me realize that there is a subset of people who view blog authors as ersatz mentors and role models. I was one of these people and definitely relied on bloggers (like her and her and them) for advice and support.
What a lovely two weeks. Fall was extended this year so Minneapolis still has temperatures in the 50’s and 60’s. The colors are amazing and the morning dog walks have become sprawling two-hour events because it is so nice outside.
The leaves around Minneapolis are turning orange again and I actually bought a pea coat, this fall thing is mighty real.
Some of us are less amused than others.
Besides this week’s Microsoft Store drama, things were profoundly uneventful this week. I now know why middle aged people are fat – all I want to do after work is drive home, walk the dogs, eat fattening things, and go to bed. That’s all.
It’s terribly frumpy but I do not care.
While some of my friends spent Saturday evening in the law library, I was at the MCAD gala drinking wine and watching the governor bid $11,000 for a painting of a girl swimming. Post-law school life is kinda awesome.
With no school year to mark the time for me anymore, I guess summer ends with the Minnesota State Fair. There’s probably a meteorological date or something, but lamb on a stick is a better way to mark the seasons.
I’m ending summer with a new view of the skyline, but I’m still in Minneapolis.
I work from home three days a week, which means I get to overhear the bus stop conversations of the middle schoolers.
Today two of them got into it. We’ll call them Wendy and Rachael.
We signed the lease to our new place today. So of course the dogs and I spent most of our time at Lake of the Isles.
It’s a full circle moment. Remember how aggravating the housing search was when I first moved to Minnesota? Well, the post-law school housing search with dogs was even worse, and everyone’s over it.
This weekend’s apartment hunt turned ugly today when dozens of building managers and real estate agents called us back. The theme? The Rottweiler is a deal breaker.
MIA the past few weeks? Me? What?
The last two weeks were normal on one level. I was busy living the Minneapolis yuppie life: work, long dog walks at the lakes, clubs, drag shows, cooking disasters, restaurants, cafes, museums, crazy hobos…
Last summer an acquaintance asked me whether I was happy with how life has treated me so far. I can’t remember the exact way that he phrased the question, but I remember being intensely bothered with the underlying implication that life is something that happens to us and that we have little control over our current situation.
It’s absolutely not true. “I’m not a dog,” I thought. “I am an active participant in my life.”
