devarim

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First, in all fairness, I must tell you that we were given an amended retirement plan enrollment form that asked for "former name" instead of "maiden name" (which was on the old form). Bravo, Commonwealth.

For my first rotation (Sepetmeber through December), I've been assigned to Cambridge. The court is commutable by public transit, which is wonderful. I estimate that the total commute will be around 45 minutes, which is also not too shabby. The commute also puts me transfering from a bus to the T at Government Center on my way home over day, which means I get to buy yummy stuff at the farmer's market on Scollay Square every Monday and Wednesday until the end of the season!

Now for the pondering... I didn't cover my hair at work. I also didn't cover my hair on the way to work or at lunch, although I did put on my hat (stashed in my pocketbook) upon leaving the building at the end of the day. It didn't really bother me on the morning commute, maybe because of the anonymity of the crowded T. Walking into the building didn't feel too weird either; I've interviewed enough times to get used to the feeling of entering a place bareheaded. (No, that doesn't really make much sense.) However, once I started meeting people, chatting, and listening to the first few presentations (who knew there was so much administrative stuff to cover?), I started to feel funny. In fact, I had a momentary burning sensation on the top of my head at least a few times throughout the morning--sort of a real-life equivalent of that dream where you give a speech in front of your six-grade class only to discover halfway through that you are naked.

It wasn't liberating to leave my hair uncovered. I was very self-conscious: I kept smoothing down my hair, twisting the ends, tucking bits behind my ears and then pushing them forward. Of course, all that could have been because, after I spent 15 minutes blow-drying it this morning, my hair curled right back up about three seconds after hitting the humid summer air. Anyway...it wasn't liberating in the least, but I think I would find wearing a sheitel (wig) to be even more oppressive. Yes, I realize the logical inconsistency here. If I think I should be covering my hair, how is it "better" for me to go uncovered rather than wearing a sheitel, even if I think a sheitel is the least preferred hair-covering option?

More to think about. Still, tomorrow (and for the foreseeable future), I go to work bareheaded.

Forget this blow-drying business. Today I embrace my natural curliness.

My clerkship requires me to comply with the Code of Judicial Conduct. This means, in part, that I cannot make political endorsements. Just to be safe, I am removing most of the political content from this blog for the duration of my clerkship. I apologize for any inconvenience.

Z, if you're reading this, I'm so sorry. I tried to post a comment in your blog and couldn't. I lost my mother right around this time of year ten years ago; it's never easy, but this season is particularly difficult. My heart goes out to you.

HaMakom yenacheim et'chem b'toch sh'ar avei'lei Tzion v'Yerushalayim

Yes, I owe you a longer entry. Sorry. Busy. Here's the quick-and-dirty, with promises of things to come:

• The MBTA sucks; the Green line especially, and government Center station most especially.
  
• I owe this person an explanation behind my not covering my hair. It's coming, I promise.
  
• For the record, I now cover my hair on the way to work as well.
  
• We have an urn. It's the pump-pot kind, with a plain white exterior. No cheesy flowers. Yay!
  
• Work is cool. I like this job. I like the people I work with. The work I've been given is challenging. I'm not nuts about still having to drag my laptop in every day, but the desk without the computer is int he best location (in my opinion) so I can't complain too much.
  
• I also don't mind wearaing a suit every day. it makes me feel more put together. Let's not talk about the dry-cleaning bills, though.

Sukkot is just arround the corner, so things are going to stay busy. If I don't resurface by mid-October, you can send out a search party.

I woke up this morning to what the meteorologists among us would describe as "fog." My first thought upon opening my eyes, though, was: "Looks like God is making the rounds for Erev Yom Kippur."