Things that make me smile

1. Fall, but we've already established that.

2. wearing long sleeve shirts and shorts. With flip flops.

3. Dancing in my seat during class.

4. Going shopping before class. I may have found some great sales today.

5. Smiling. I know, it is circular.

6. The idea of pirates. I don't think I'd care for real pirates very much. I don't even like Johnny Depp.

7. Meeting my water drinking goal.

8. Dress-up clothes for kids. One day, far far away, my kid is going to be dressed adorably. All the time.

9. PUPPIES!!

10. Matt, but that's a given. I couldn't leave him off the list though.

11. Old pictures of people that I know.

12. Sunglasses. All the time. I'd walk around with my eyes closed if I didn't have them. Sometimes I wear them at night. I wish it was socially acceptable to wear them indoors.

13. The number 13.

14. Giraffes. And hippos. I know, completely opposite. I like diversity.

15. Loud sneezes. Not by me though, that's embarrassing.

16. Catching mistakes before they happen.

17. Dr. Pepper. Oh how I miss thee.

18. Things that are monogrammed. Well, embroidery in general. Again, I'm all about diversity.

19. The idea of buying a new computer. Another one of those far into the future things.

20. Even numbers!!

Hello, my name is Tara and I am a judger.

Though the title probably failed, I wanted to convey a similarity between the upcoming post and the greeting at Alcoholics Anonymous. Not that I know from personal experience, I've just seen a lot of movies. Today was a day of self-realization. I am a judger. In other words, I judge people. Before I get to know them. If people were books, I'd be judging them by their covers. Too cliche'? I know, I'm just all sorts of fail today. That's okay though, I've accepted it. Also, I baked a flourless chocolate cake. Trust me, that cake, more like a torte, makes everything better. Even failure.

Here's the recipe: http://www.pillsbury.com/recipes/chocolate-glazed-fudge-cake/bfb2a9aa-7dc5-4587-97d9-f2174b7ae35f/
- note, if you decide to try this, remember to temper the eggs before adding all of them to the melted chocolate and butter mixture. The directions don't say to do that, but you should. Again, trust me.

But back to the point. For the past couple weeks I've been preparing for a disciplinary hearing of a fellow law student for which I, along with three professors and one other student, had to decide if he was guilty and if so, the proper punishment (most likely expulsion). I reviewed pages and pages of letters, applications, and written statements. From this study, I painted a picture of, for lack of a better word, the defendant. In my mind, he basically looked like an chaos-spreading ogre who barely deserved to live in a cage-free environment, much less be in law school. The hearing was today and last night I barely slept because I was so nervous about the hearing. I mean, I was just a few hours away from ruining this ogre's life. After my first class today, I decided to look back over the documents again before the hearing. I did, intensively. Though I had read them before, this time, I looked for something different. Both sides of the story.

After three hours and my ten-pages of my own notes (not to mention highlighting, it is basically a habit now. I can't read anything serious without a highlighter.), my mental picture got a little less menacing. In fact, I was starting to think that this kid was more like an unruly pigmy goat (you know, the ones that faint) than an ogre. After finishing my review of the evidence, if you will, I was even more nervous than before. I was doubting my original thoughts. For me, this is bad. Doubting usually gets me wrong answers, missed parking spaces, and references to a certain Biblical character. I'm pretty certain that I was more nervous than the ogre/goat before the hearing. Once it started and the witnesses and defendant gave their testimonies and our questions were answered, I realized that my original thoughts weren't just a little wrong, they were a lot wrong. I took the information compiled by a very scared goat and turned him into an ogre. I judged him before I heard his side. I tried him, convicted him, and hung him before he opened his mouth. I shouldn't have done that. I can't say that I won't do it again. I don't always succeed (see opening paragraph), but I'm going to try to listen more and make decisions only after hearing as many sides as possible. I'm going to try. Granted, the goat wasn't exactly an lamb; maybe a crossbreed of goat and ogre. Like an ogregoat or goatogre. Either way. It is a good thing for him that I'm on the Ethics Committee and not on the Admissions Committee. But that's beside the point.

Also beside the point, leggings with a short shirt still merit harsh judgment. It is never a good idea. Ever.

Oh Autumn, my old friend.

Guess what guys. Today is October 12. Yep, twenty days past the first day of Fall 2010 (for you law students, that marks September 22 as the date - see, I'm considerate like that, I know that not all of us have an aptitude for mathematics) and it is a cool 85 degrees outside. Please note, 85 degrees is not cool. Heck, it isn't even all that comfortable out there except in the shade. I know, that is just how Louisiana is around now. I know that and I have accepted it. Personally, I like to wear flip flops for as long as possible. However, I also like Autumn. Who doesn't?


Nobody.


Everyone likes Fall. Football. Short, nippy wind. Leaves crunching on the ground, flying through the air. Hot beverages like hot chocolate, hot tea, and apple cider. Yum. Chili. Gumbo. Jeans. Cardigans.

Oh but wait. Not all of those things fit with Fall. It is 85 stinking degrees outside. Jeans are too hot. Cardigans are only useful indoors, and the only good hot drink is one with ice in it.

Know what can make everything better? I do. I bought one the other day. It is a..... candle.






That's right. A candle. The name? Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin. The place? Bath and Body Works. The cost? $10 each when you buy two. Sixty hours of happiness? Priceless.

Turned off by the element of pumpkin? Me too. I hate, excuse me, I seriously dislike pumpkins. Scratch that. I seriously dislike pumpkins that smell like pumpkins. I seriously dislike the taste of pumpkins. I seriously dislike the ickiness that is inside a pumpkin. However, the excellent thing about this pumpkin candle is that the only way it resembles a pumpkin is by the picture on the front and the toasty orange color of the wax. Instead, think of cinnamon and apple cider simmering on the stove, perfuming the air with rich tendrils of Autumn. Oddly enough, BBW offers an apple cider candle, but isn't as fragrant as this candle.

So if you are longing for a change of season, go out and buy one (or two) of these candles. When you get home, lower the temperature on your thermostat, light the candle, make some hot chocolate, get a blanket, and curl up with a book (law students, preferably a Successions treatise). You'll be in Heaven*. Well, not really, but you'll be pretty darn close to Heaven. And it only costs you $20**.

* denotes that the Heaven indicated in this blog is unrelated to the adolescent game commonly called "seven minutes in Heaven" and played at boy/girl parties. Instead, the indicated Heaven refers to a Biblical place that is entered into upon death (unless you're Catholic, then it may be awhile).

** denotes the price of the purchase of TWO of the large candles for sale at Bath and Body Works. The purchase of ONE such candle can be made for $19.50. Neither price includes local or state taxes.

My first 15K.

Yesterday I (sort of) ran 9.3 miles. It Europe, that equates to 15 kilometers. I like to say 15K because it sounds farther and more impressive. I say it in my head like that too. Point. What was it again? Oh, I remember. I ran this one alone. Granted, there were about 200 other runners there too, but it was the first run that I did not have a friend with me. The first one was with Marla, the second with Matt, Bill, and Elena. I have to admit, I was pretty lonely by myself. Though the half-marathon was supposed to be a family affair, a series of events caused Nick and Marla to change their plans. For some reason, training for a half-marathon takes time and some serious conditioning. I don't know why.

Anyway, back to the point. Towards the end of the 15K (see what I did there?), a couple of older ladies came up even with me. I was tired. I was coughing. I slowed to a walk. The ladies weren't having any of it. Instead, they told me that I had better not let a couple of old ladies beat me. To be honest, I didn't care if I came in last. At that point, I just wanted to be done. So they would stop teasing me, I kept running. Plodding along with my leg muscles burning, I kept at it. The ladies talked constantly. They hollered out encouragement and talked about what they were going to eat when they got to the finish line. For me, after I run I don't even want to think about food. I just want water. Cold, cold water. Their food talk made me want to gag. With about a half a mile left I decided that vomiting was the last thing I needed to do so I sped up. The ladies were so excited about that, they hollered and whistled at me. I kind of felt like a well-performing horse. Well, a cow really after all my plodding. But farm animals aside, I crossed the finish line in 1:48:23. I was so so excited. My goal was to finish in under two hours and I did it. My goal for the half is under 3 hours. My finish time in the 15K was right on track. Now, I just have to run more, walk less, and get a few more miles under my belt and I'll be ready. I'm almost there. No really, it is 27 days away. Between now and then, I have to 243 miles to travel. Nope Judith, I'm not following ole Hal's plan. I call this one "Tara's Big Running Program." The subtitle is "So I won't die." I'm looking forward to it.

Signs that the LSU home opener is approaching. Seriously, there are actual signs.

Ever since moving to BR, I've had to adjust to the LSU mindset. I actually did a lot to help me in the transition from red and blue to purple and gold. I bought a t-shirt, some LSU flip flops, folded away my Tech shirts (mostly), and got an LSU themed debit card. I know, I'm pretty extreme. I've also learned that Les Miles is the LSU football coach and everyone has a different opinion of him depending on what part of the year it is, tailgating is an all day and sometimes, all night thing, and my assignments are likely to depend on the Tigers' performance. I have also learned that by the time school starts, football frenzy is in full swing and the season can't start soon enough. Though this is just my third football season, I've also learned that one can have no clue as to the football schedule, but can easily spot when it is time for the season home opener. See below.

These are student season tickets. That's right, for about two hours I was the owner of season tickets to LSU football. Not to worry Tech, I gave them away. But anyway, the SBA has the lottery and hands out these tickets to lucky students the week of the first home game.

This is a billboard. I'm sorry the picture isn't framed perfectly. I was driving. Give me a break. This billboard came up about two weeks ago. There are several others in the area. Including a handful that feature Les Miles. He seems to be a big deal. Almost to the level of Derek Dooley's former fame.

Here's the first parking sign upon entering campus. That's right. A real sign. For some reason, the people who matter don't want tailgaters to park directly on the road. I can't imagine why.

This is yet another, actual sign. Please note, ticket holders and tailgaters can only park on the non-fraternity side of the road. I'm not sure why. Probably to ensure that drunk fratters don't run into parked cars.

Yep, here's another sign. LSU is all about signs. And preserving sidewalks.

And here is the most definite sign of all - the scattering of portable lavatories around campus. Charming, I know. Alas, a necessary evil. In fact, these treasure stores are on the grounds for the entire football season once they are placed. For this sole reason, I can't wait for January.

I'm no Martha Stewart

For the longest time I have wanted to make a frilly apron. You know what I mean, the Suzie Homemaker in an evening gown baking cookies kinda apron. I wanted to make one. And wear it. I bought a pattern around Thanksgiving of last year. Matt bought me the fabric I wanted to make the apron with - red toile - for Christmas. Finally, last night I made the apron. From start to finish. I was both impressed and disappointed. You'll see why in this picture laden post.



First, my work station. The machine - still in the box, the bed as my table, the fabric, the pattern, and my trusty sewing kit.

Next, a close up of my essentials. Again the sewing kit, fabric, and kit.

My favorite and most useful tool. The pin cushion and corresponding pins.

After adorning my pin cushion with. well, pins, I cut out my fabric pieces. This was incredibly complicated and difficult. Seems like it shouldn't have been. I mean, cutting. How hard can it be? Trust me, when you don't have a table and can't see the chalk line you are are supposed to cut down because the fabric is light-colored, cutting can be very hard. All the same, I eventually got it done. Please note, the little piece that looks like a pocket. I decided, after spending an hour cutting out that pocket, that I didn't want to put it on my apron. Such a waste.

Now, the next thing I did was attach the ruffle. After all, the thing I was most excited about on the apron was the ruffle. The picture below is the ruffle, only un-ruffled. I haven't read a pattern since 9th grade home economics, but I think I can safely say that the pattern did not have instructions for how to affix the ruffle to the skirt in such a way that the six feet of ruffle would match up perfectly with both sides of the top. I decided to wing it. I pinned it with my oh so handy pins and just went crazy with the ruffle. For about the first six inches. Then, I decided to just stick it in the machine and free style it. That worked amazingly well. Until about the half way point on the apron and I realized that I was out of ruffle. In fact, I used the entire six feet of ruffle in about 16 inches of apron. I know, I am a ruffle freak.

This is a picture of me, free-styling it with the ruffle. Look Mom, no pins. No, my mom does not read this blog.

And again. I know, I'm pretty handy to have around. So, once I realized my ruffle error, I cut out another six feet and free styled it some more. Just think, a total of 12 feet of ruffle on a 3 foot apron. Be impressed.

Looks pretty serious huh? Look closely. Notice anything wrong? You might not can see it, but I committed a grievous error. I free styled it a little too much. See how in the above picture the print is facing each other? Well, in my second batch of ruffle, I sewed the ruffle on to the apron backwards. Yep, I'm a winner. And by backwards, I mean that the part where it was stitched together was on the front and completely visible. In other words, wrong. Fail.

So what happens when you sew something incorrectly and care enough to want it to be correct? Ripping. Seam ripping. Know what the instrument is called to rip? A seam ripper. Pretty intuitive huh? Just think, about 18 inches of seams on 6 feet of fabric. Gross.

I fixed it. Finally. It may have taken about six hours, but I did it. Here's a picture of the finished product. Crafty. In know, right. Well, it isn't exactly perfect, but you can't tell. It was not my "vision," but it works. It is an apron. It has ruffles.

I don't think I'll be making anymore ruffled aprons. Next "task" will be onesies. With about a million babies coming to my friends in the near future, I can make the onesies and then spend the money on monogramming or screen printing. I'm excited about that. Perhaps I can make some with ruffles.

What I saw today...

Okay, so today I saw a pink diamond ring. It was amazing. I'm not really a pink person but I saw the ring and I coveted it. In fact, I seriously considered busting the glass and taking it. I decided not to solely because I was the only customer in the shop and am pretty certain I would have been tasered before taking a single step towards the door. Alas, I really wanted it.

Thanks to Google image, here's a picture of a pink diamond:

And here is one very similiar to the ring I saw:

See what I mean? It is beautiful! Though, in about a week or so I probably won't like them anymore....