Right b efore I adopted Moxie, I purchased a new down coat from Eddie Bauer — one of those head-to-toe sleeping bag numbers.  When I took her home in mid-January (almost three years ago now) and had to walk her 3+ times per day in the bitter cold, I realized just what a good purchase that coat was. Days like today simply reinforce that it was money well spent. 

Yeah. I know that's not me. I wear it zipped up to the nose with the hood up. You can barely see my face. 

I hope your new year got started like mine and Moxie's — surrounded by loved ones.

Yesterday was my birthday, and per usual, I celebrated with some of the special people in my life. One of the most amazing things (other than the fact that they tolerated the fact that I was constantly blowing my nose all night) is that most of these people I've known for about ten years and some for closer to twenty. Having them in my life is the best gift of all and makes getting older much more tolerable. Much love to all of you and the rest of you in my life!

• I saw at least three women with bare legs on my way to work this morning, including one wearing sandals. Are they unaware of the weather today?
• My apartment is now a sauna but my office is a refrigerator. Countdown to getting sick due to extreme temperature fluctuations in 3, 2, 1 . . .
• Obama killed it on the Colbert Report last night.
• It feels like any progress the US has made in terms of racism, sexism, and reproductive freedom during my lifetime has, at best, stalled and often seems to be going completely backwards.
• The trick on a day like this is to find an outfit that, despite looking professional, feels almost as comfortable as pajamas. #nailedit.

Yeah, yeah. I know that #TBT is a *thing* but I'm feeling nostalgic today. I was looking through old blog posts yesterday and some of it is absolutely cringe-worthy (in my first post I explained that I was starting a "weblog." Oy.). That said, I stumbled on one of my favorite posts, which is still totally relevant today — What's in a Name — or the fact that nobody you date gets called by their real name for quite some time, but is only known by a nickname of some sort. I'm trying to think if I have any good ones from more recent times, but am coming up short . . . maybe some of you can help!

Last night, I went to my first official Tufts alumni event in years — a whisky tasting sponsored by the Tufts Lawyers Network. I'm very glad I went — made a bunch of good work connections and enjoyed the line of Johnny Walker whiskys — but I was asked a few times about whether I had attended any other Tufts alumni events. I honestly can't remember if I went to any of my official class reunions. I do remember one event in NYC with Sol Gittleman at the Tenement Museum, but otherwise, I haven't been to anything formal.

That said, this year was the 18th OJ — our annual fall October soJourn with Tufts friends from various a cappella groups (this year, with kids! OJ NextGen). I can't say that I've been to all of them, but definitely the majority.  And this May, we'll be having the Amalgamates' 30th Anniversary — I've been to every 5-year anniversary we've had. Pretty amazing. So all in all, my Tufts blood runs deep, although it may not be in the traditional alumni ways. Works for me!

I'm sitting at the Wine Cellar last night after a meeting and I notice that the gentleman next to me has a tattoo wrapping around his right forearm. I couldn't see the whole thing, but was able to clearly make out the word "inalienable.*" So I say, "I see you have a bit of the Constitution on your arm." He replied, "actually, it's the Declaration of Independence." 

Worst. Lawyer. Ever. 

* now, of course, I am questioning whether it said "inalienable" or "unalienable," but apparently this is questioned often.

I busted out the boots today. Not sure I'm ready for this . . .