<-- The Harding Ice Field, Kenai Peninsula.

Fourth of July weekend with Double M was great -- we went down to Alaska's playground, the Kenai Peninsula, and did all manner of Alaskan things: a sealife cruise where we saw sea otters, porpoises (they like to swim underneath the bow of the ship as it pushes water aside for them), Steller sea lions, orcas, a humpback whale mother with her little one (flipping their flukes and all), a rare glimpse of dolphins, and puffins; amazing hiking; gorgeous lush valleys and mountains; and the Halibut Capital of the World. Of course.

A story about puffins: Charm, a friend of mine from way back, used to think that the "Tuppence a Bag" song from Mary Poppins (you know, where the old bag lady sits and feeds the pigeons to the tune of "Feed the birds/ Tuppence a bag") went like this -- "Feed the birds/ Puffins a bag..." If you know the scene and song I'm talking about, I think you will agree that there is just nothing funnier than replacing tuppence with puffins. And if you don't, it makes no sense. Life is often unfair that way.

Anyhoo. The cruise was cool. I took two non-drowsy Dramamine and of course drowsed, but the captain, a red-cheeked, blooming short-haired blonde girl, was very good about alerting everyone to the various critters around us. The middle of the trip was 30 minutes of watching a huge glacier calve 100-pound pieces of ice into the sea, with thunderous claps. (Glaciers "calve" when they shed parts of themselves, which amuses me to no end. Calving Glaciers should be the name of a rock band, for sure.)

On Sunday we hiked up to the edge of the Harding Ice Field. The name amused Double M mightily -- she said it sounded like it should be on the moon. Indeed, it sort of looks like it should be on the moon. The ice field is thousands and thousands of feet thick, in the midst of all these mountains, whose peaks peek out above the snow and ice like little islands of rock. Enormous turquoise, dirt-covered, and deeply crevassed glaciers overflow from the ice field, creating and moving through the valleys. The incredible pressure of all the ice changes the bottom of the glaciers to something almost liquid, so that the glacier, as defined, moves bit by bit on its way to the ocean. It was effing unbelievable. I so want to go back. Even though I'm STILL sore from the hike. During which we saw, by the way, a black bear about 15 feet away from us. It followed us for about half a minute, and then left. Much to our relief. We also saw a mother bear and her cub running on a ridge high above us. And we saw marmots. They're rodents. Large rodents. Kinda cute, actually.

You see what I mean about this weekend being very Alaskan?

We headed over to Homer, billed by the writer of my travel book as "Cosmic Hamlet by the Sea," but self-billed as "Halibut Capital of the World." No, really, it's right on the sign. It's a kooky little town, with a fair number of artists, hippie types (like the couple who started the Sourdough Express, a warm and personable cafe with a great halibut sub), and, as my landlady likes to put it, other "end-of-the-roaders."

We camped on the beach so that we saw magnificent snow-capped peaks and a cerulean bay out one tent door, and RVs out the other. There's a lesson to that, I feel.

Double M left this afternoon, and is back safe in Minnie, with a very happy cat. I was sorry to see her go, but had little time to nurse those feelings, as right after work I met with my aunt and uncle and mother, who are in town until Saturday. My uncle was waiting in the lobby for me as I came out of work and immediately launched into laments about my mother, which I sympathize with. "She's so standoffish sometimes," he said in his modified and blurry Kansan accent. "And so difficult. I just don't know what we're going to do. Sometimes I feel like telling her she has to move out, but where would she go?" Sigh.

I took them home and then to the Beartooth for some chow (can't get enough of their blackened fish tacos - have now eaten them with the Ringleted One, Double M, and now my mother). My uncle then made a pretty good push to get up partway on the Flattop trail. The bottom part isn't too bad, but it's gravelly, which was a recipe for a pretty easy spill. My uncle did almost fall, but I caught him, thankfully.

After oohing over the expansive view of Anchorage and Cook Inlet, we hied ourselves to the grocery store, where my aunt and uncle dithered -- as people do, both old and young -- over purchases. Should we get bagels if we're getting bread? Should we get 7-Up? Does hk drink 7-Up? Where's hk's mother? Why'd she go back to the car? Wait, if we're getting bread, we don't need the bagels. What flavor ice cream should we get? hk's mom likes strawberry, get strawberry. No, I want vanilla. hk, how about this Neapolitan one?

Sweet jesus.

I do get impatient, and so I sympathize with my mother, who lives with this dithering. Really, everyone should have their own place and be independently self-supporting. And no one should get old. Wake me up when that all gets worked out.

On top of this, Supervisor came back from his week off today and asked if I was happy with my workload, what I wanted more exposure to, etc., so I asked him in return what he felt I should work on. Answer: "Well, you have to work on never missing a court date," he said. "I mean, even if you're just meeting me at the court, you can't miss it."

I held my tongue and took the beating I deserved, then asked if there was anything else. "Other than that, there are a few things that I might be slightly concerned about if you were an associate, but you're very new at this, so nothing glaring."

Uh, anything glimmering, then?

"Glimmering... well, I hesitate to say this, because I don't really know, and I'm hyper aggressive myself, and people have differing approaches, but you -- ah... I wonder -- I'm not sure that if it came down to it, you would be able to knock heads together if the situation required it."

I nodded, said that I knew I was a little timid.

"No, timid wasn't the word I would use, and aggressive for aggressiveness' sake isn't good either, but the bottom line is that you have to get the thing done, whichever approach you use, and so far I haven't seen you NOT get things done with your approach."

I mentioned that I think I would be able to be aggressive if needed, but that if not, perhaps that was just a sign I shouldn't head into litigation.

"But then it's just transactional work, and I really think you should work for the people."

I pointed out that there were other options, like mediation.

"Oh right," he said with a smile, "there's mediation."

And so ended the evaluation. As it were.

I don't know what it was -- maybe coming back to the office after an awesome weekend, or that weird eval, or the prospect of having to deal with the folks -- but later in the afternoon, I got that same panicky, verge-of-tears feeling that I got back in first semester, when I had to stumble out of the library, hyperventilating from the pressure, the boredom, the work, and the intense dislike of the place. I went for a long walk and sat in the park for a while, crying a little bit in the blinding, warming sun. I thought about quitting. I thought about leaving law school. I thought about responsibility and family and resentment. I thought about how pleasant it was to not think about work for three days, and how it cast a pallor over my day when Double M asked about it on Sunday.

And then I got up and went back.