"What have you been doing since graduation?"

I've been blog-quiet of late. I will admit that I haven't even been particularly busy.

It's true that graduation weekend was (happily, happily) jam-packed. My family came for the Great Weekend, during which we lunched at Melville, hiked the Dish, surfed in Santa Cruz, ate at Pluto's, shopped at the Milk Pail, prepped for my graduation barbecue (which included, among other things, the preparing of six homemade sauces, three kinds of buns, four kinds of grilled "meats," eight kinds of cheese, more than 2o sundry toppings, and I'd guess more than fifteen pounds of hand-made sweet potato fries), served my graduation barbecue (to more than 70 people--thanks to all who came), mingled at the law school, chatted, attended my graduation (which was blessedly short), toured Escondido Village and our old haunts (we even took a picture of us kids lined up in front of the bush we always used as family photo backdrops during our California years), attended church at the First Ward, dinnered with the Pearsons, opened Peter's mission call, reclined at my favorite park, and ran (literally ran) to get Rick's classic ice cream. On a sunny Monday afternoon, we stood in the Palo Alto half-shade, red-faced and sweaty, licking ice cream on cones and being glad we'd run and glad we didn't have to run home. And then the family was gone, and I was left without family, without school, without obligations to my name.

So I watched TV.

Over the course of four or five days, I caught up on The Office, 30 Rock, House, Top Chef, one episode of Hell's Kitchen (one episode was enough for me), and, finally and engrossingly, Friday Night Lights. And I watched Ironman (pretty fun) and Spellbound (a long-time favorite). Sunday came, I repented from my TV watching, and I determined to live this week anew.

I've stayed home mostly. It's strawberry season here (is it strawberry season everywhere?), and they're sold red and fat and freckled by Hispanic men and white women who stand under tents and on street corners. I eat the strawberries greedily, whole pints at a time. I think the acid is starting to burn my mouth. Still, still, it's 10:19 pm, I've eaten a bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal and I'm one cut strawberry into making a bowl of strawberries I'll cover with milk and eat while I listen again and again to Jose Gonzalez's "Heartbeats" on repeat.*

Yesterday I spent prepping for the 22nd birthday of one of the best women I've ever known, and before I showered at night, I was covered in fingerpaints and glitter; I had permanent marker streaks on my hands and one red birthmark-like star on my right elbow, the imprint of an unthinking lean onto the pants I was decorating for Jane; and following the traditional and celebratory cake-throwing at her birthday dinner, I found cake in my hair and in my ears. I showered at 9:00 pm and washed the glitter, the cake, and the paint down our bathtub drain (the permanent marker star stayed behind) and then I watched Cold Comfort Farm.

That's my story. Everyone's been asking, "What have you been doing since graduation?" And this, this is my answer. I've done some dishes, some laundry, some errands. I've run a few times and watched a few movies. I've eaten a lot of strawberries, celebrated a woman I love, hung out with people I admire, and slept in.

A good living this. A great living.

Come next week, I start studying for the bar.

*I've embedded "Heartbeats" on the page for your listening pleasure. Good goo, it's a beautiful song. Feel free to listen to it on repeat as you read this post. That's how I wrote it.