Nooksack Nordic Ski Club

I realized long ago that many of the things I like to do are predominately enjoyed by individuals over the age of 50. I don't know why this is. I don't think of myself as boring...well, maybe I do, but not in an old person way. One of the things I really love to do is cross-country skiing. Most people my age seem to prefer the adrenaline rush of downhill skiing, but I'm more into the peaceful, rhythmic motion of the flats. Skiing, however, is one thing that I would prefer to not do alone...I have been known to go on a quick trip by myself, but somehow between the driving in the snow and the wandering out into freezing cold wilderness, it has crossed my mind that independence is not ideal. So I figured I would join a club, where I could meet other people with similar interests. Not surprisingly, when I showed up at the monthly meeting of the Nooksack Nordic Ski Club, I was the youngest person there...by a lot. It turns out there are a number of great nordic trails in the area, so I'll probably be trying to take advantage of them, but there don't appear to be many other young people that are also looking for cross-country ski partners.

Welcome to Bellingham.

So, I've been living in Bellingham for about a month now. Two issues have presented themselves, which are somewhat intertwined: one, I don't have very many friends here, and two, I haven't found my favorite places and my favorite things to do...you know, the ones that make a place feel like home. I have made an executive decision that I need to address that. And I figured there might be other people in the same boat. They aren't likely to find my blog, but they really aren't likely to find it if I didn't post it. So here we are.

San Francisco

My life really isn't this boring. Based on my incapacity to blog, one would think there is nothing going on. On the contrary, I spend lots of time in my car, driving back and forth between Bellingham and Seattle. On Mondays and Fridays I tutor little second graders in phonics (...i think...I don't really get what phonics are, so I don't actually know.) The last few weekend have been packed. Over Mother's Day, I went down to Portland to celebrate with my sweet, wonderful mother and grandmother and my sister-in-law who is a new mother herself. So I also got to meet my new nephew Søren, who is adorable. Last weekend, I flew down to see my friend Julie Kurtz in Figaro. She was amazing. We also explored the farmers market and a little bit of Marin County. Then this weekend, my brother and I went backpacking, but I will post about that at another time...when I get the pictures. As always, there are stories to tell...

A Completely New Adventure

So, its taken me a little while to tell people this because its actually a little disorienting. Funny how good news can be as disorienting as bad sometimes...

Some of you know that I interviewed for a position as the Child Welfare Attorney with the Lummi Nation up in Bellingham. Well, I got the position so, come August, I will actually be employed, living in the place I want to live, doing the thing I want to do. I am blessed... and maybe a little bit scared. For the past several years, I have kept myself sane by telling myself that it will be better later. Now I am almost done. What if it doesn't get better? What if I'm really not cut out for this? What if I can't do it? But those are the thoughts that I am trying to ignore. I'm trying to rest and breathe and relax.

Here's a brief explanation of my job. I will function basically as the attorney general for dependencies that are heard in tribal court, meaning that I convey to the court, along with social workers, why children need to be removed or separated from their parents. I will also represent the tribe's interests in state court dependency cases in which a Lummi child is involved. Lastly, I will 'prosecute' juvenile delinquency cases that are diverted, meaning they are essentially provided services rather than being sent to detention. Tribal courts are an interesting place to work. They have the benefit of flexibility, which can more effectively address the needs of children and families, but there are unquestionably cultural differences that make misunderstandings likely and harmful. I'm excited about the challenge. And if you're ever in the Bellingham area, that is where I will be for a while.

Keep me in your prayers.

SUCCESS!...or at least completion...

So far, i have one class down - Chemical Dependency. i still have a final for Alternative Dispute Resolution, papers for Juvenile Justice Seminar and Infancy in Context, and for Clinic...well, Clinic never ends. Point being, I am nearing the end of my second to last quarter of law school. At some point, a little nostalgia is going to set in. I am both moving from my apartment in Greenlake and losing some of my dear friends (I mean, they will still exist, just in states far away). Right now, all my mental and emotional energy is devoted to trying to stick it out for one more week. I know, it sounds ridiculous. Who can't stick it out for one more week? But a mind is a crazy thing. If you have never had the sensation that your brain is literally rebelling, you don't realize how lucky you are. Mine is done. It is waving a white flag and surrendering, but not to me. It's surrendering to apathy. "No more!" my mind says, "I do not like this silly school. I cannot memorize one more rule. I will not write even one more word. This legal thing is so absurd." My mind talks like Dr. Suess...which might explain why it hasn't put up with law school very well. Anyways, one more week. Then SPRING BREAK! And I get to go see my dear brother and sister and maybe a brand new niece or nephew, plus some dear old friends. So yes, Mary, we are still on for Savannah, if you're up for it!

7:54 am

I sorta woke up at 6:30. That's at least when my alarm went off and my lights went on...but somehow I'm still in bed...and feeling guilty. Why do I let my days waste away? Because, honestly, what awaits me when I get up? My room is a disaster - there are open Tupperwares and clothes strewn everywhere, miscellaneous gear and books and junk of all sorts covering the floor. I'm in the process of moving...again. I shouldn't complain. I've lived in this apartment for a whopping 16 months, including a brief four month interlude up in Mt. Vernon. And I'm moving in with very generous friends where I will save money, not have to park on the street and have a actual yard with grass. But for the love of all things. Packing sucks. I'm tired of it. And then there is the paper I need to write for Alternative Dispute Resolution. So its not really surprising I'm still in bed. ugh.

My Qualifications as a Nordic Princess

Generally, I find the term 'princess' insulting - all that pink and sparkle and frou-frou-ness. Its too much for me to handle. But Nordic Princesses are different. They are rough and strong and don't mind getting a little dirty. That's why they are cool. But I wouldn't want to defame the good name of Nordic Princesshood. There are some minimum requirements, you know. To be a Nordic Princess you must:

- Have blond hair and fair skin.
- Like black licorice, even the mildly salty kind.
- Cross-country ski.
- Knit.
- Hike.
- Favor wool over any other textile.
- Think any neighbor within a half mile is too close.
- Buy clothing for their practicality more than their appearance.
- Believe holidays are for roughing it, not for pampering.
- Eat fish.
- Love lefse.
- Prefer simple and classic to flashy and chi-chi.

Unfortunately, I'm a displaced Nordic Princess, living in Seattle, where my neighbors are far too close, lefse is hard to find and pampering is the order of the day. But Nordic Princesses are always up for a challenge.