Guess Who's Back

My blog is back up! While it was down, I was still running around. Before I get distracted by India and Ecuador, I would like to tell you all what I have been up to.

Running Like Turkeys With Their Heads Cut Off
The Saturday after Thanksgiving, my dear friend Sofonisba Anguissola and I decided to spend the day in New York City. Within the first two hours of our adventure, we managed to eat lunch, walk through Times Square, ride on a merry-go-round in Bryant Park, visit the New York Public Library, explore an exhibit about Jack Kerouac, and stumble upon the Parsons building and fabric store featured on Project Runway. While Sofonisba and I enjoyed all of our activities, we were most thrilled by our brush with Project Runway. We spent a good twenty minutes touching fabrics, imitating Tim Gunn, and pretending to be models.

After running around Midtown, the Garment District, and the Theater District, we decided that it was time to kick back and relax in the Village. As we filled up on lattés from hip cafés and window-shopped at pricey clothing boutiques, we developed a severe problem: we had to go to the bathroom. The casual reader may laugh at our predicament. Relieving oneself is basic human function. It is not supposed to be difficult. Unfortunately, we were in New York City the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Every clean bathroom (a rarity in and of itself) was mobbed by tourists. After meditating on our challenge, we decided to run to my mother’s office, convince the security guard to let us in, and sneak, like spies, into the stalls. After we completed our mission, we rewarded ourselves by pretending to be hip New Yorkers. We went out for dinner and then watched a documentary about consumerism at an artsy movie theater.

Ms. Wanders Goes to Washington
One week later, I decided to trek down to Washington, D.C. to visit my extended family and watch oral argument at the Supreme Court. I traveled to and from Washington on a Greyhound bus. When I told people that I was going to take the bus, I discovered many stigmas. As a result, I would like to take a moment to preach the wonders of Greyhound:
• Greyhound has amazing customer service. The representatives smile, tell you that they love their job, make you the focus of their attention, and do not charge a fee when you change your schedule.
• Greyhound is flexible. When I showed up an hour early for my 10:00 AM bus, they told me that I could hop onto the 9:00 AM bus. I did not have to fill out any paperwork or pay extra money.
• Greyhound is a great deal. My round-trip ticket between New York City and Washington only cost $35. The trip itself lasted a little over four hours each way. A plane ticket would have cost gobs more money and would have required just as much time because I would have had to go through security, check my bags, and find my gate.
• Busses are more environmentally friendly than airplanes.

Now that I have gotten my love for Greyhound out of my system, I would like to focus on another object of my affection: Constitutional law. My last day in Washington, I went to the Supreme Court to watch oral argument. My grandmother and I hopped in line on the front steps of the Supreme Court at 8:30 AM. One and a half hours later, we were led inside, barely missing the cut-off. The case that we watched, Sprint v. Mendelsohn, was fairly boring. It focused on the use of “me-too” evidence in employment discrimination lawsuits (“me-too” evidence is testimony from individuals who believe that they have also been victims of discrimination). However, I loved watching the Supreme Court at work. I got butterflies in my stomach as soon as I walked into the room and saw all nine Justices. As the argument progressed, I had fun looking out for each Justice’s famous habits: Thomas refraining from participating, Breyer asking pointed questions, Breyer and Thomas cracking jokes, etc. When I left, I felt even more excited by the prospect of pursuing a career in Constitutional law.

The Girl in the Café
When I was not gallivanting, I spent most of the past month working at a local café (the same establishment where I worked this past summer). I loved my job because I was able to drink free lattés, practice Spanish, and taste-test gourmet recipes for my CIA-trained (Culinary Institute of America) boss, Skip. Skip had a penchant for pathetic jokes. We spent a lot of time exchanging witticisms in the kitchen.

This concludes Antigone update. In other news, I just accepted an offer to work at an academic summer program in Massachusetts after I return from Ecuador.