Ever wondered what Ana's author looks like?

Well, I look a lot like my mom...albeit a more granola version...



Like I was going to post a pic of myself. Ha. Maybe at the end of 3L.

And on to the next year...

Well, it's official. All my grades are in and the 2L year is over. I survived another semester. Survival is the wrong word because there was more to the past few months than just trudging through the academic calendar. I took a risk and found a doggie I love. I took a risk and got a summer job offer despite a very candid interview. I took a risk and found a great friend in Wine-time Girl by letting myself be open to it. The W*all Street J*ournal asked to interview me about the blog and I said, "uhhhhhh, I don't think I'm ready for that risk." (That being said, to any staff members at the New Yorker, feel free to contact me.)

Life is almost too good right now.

The other night my mother told me to remember this time for when things got ugly later. (We now see from where I get my positive outlook, yes?)

And in perfect timing, my birthday is this weekend.

I plan to drink a lot of wine and ponder the risks I want to take in the coming year.

(crummy photo of a cool watercolor painting by Ana's mom)
Who knows what the future has in store for me...

Cross your fingers that I don't end up getting knocked up or something crazy like that.

Only in Ana's World....

Grades at my school range from F to A. You can get all the letters in between (excepting E) with a plus or minus. A grade of B is the middle of the curve. Until this semester my grades have been pretty consistent: they're all B, B+, or A-.

The grade I got a few days ago? C+ Honestly! I blew right past B- onto the Big C+.

So my second grade came back today. A. Not A-. 4.0, A.

I now have received two of my grades and neither are grades I ever received before this semester. And they're so closely related! Yes, ladies and gents, I managed to get one of the highest AND one of lowest grades in a class in the span of one semester. This is impressive, no? Can I put those two grades on my resume in order to demonstrate my commitment to diversity?

One thing however is consistent - I studied the most during the semester for the class in which I got the C+ and studied the least for the A.

(I do realize that my grades are completely psychologically-based. I was freaked out over the C+ class for the entire semester. In the A class I thought I'd do well by the second day. For the final I was mildly delirious, and when in a hypo I had to draft a letter for a client named Britney Spears, the creative juices flowed freely. The result was an exam answer that used highly eloquent terms like 'baby-daddy,' 'yo,' 'for reals,' and 'like, totally!' Lucky for me, the prof apparently found it entertaining.)

If only my school didn't have an attendance policy I might be able to get a 4.0 one semester.

And yes, I'm afraid to keep checking for the grades to come in...because I've also never received a B-, a C-, or a D.

You would think that I'd be thrilled by the A, right? Ha. Before today I was certain that my GPA for this semester was in the tank. Right now I've got five hours of fourteen accounted for and this semester's GPA is at 3.33. This means my GPA can still be salvaged. Now suddenly I have hope. ...And I think that might actually be worse than none at all.

Oh c'mon, you didn't expect Ana of all people to actually be happy about getting an A, did you?

Why I love being an only child...

Okay, so I’m not an only child in real life – but I am at my summer firm. At first I wasn’t so sure of the idea – no other kids to play with on the playground, no water-cooler convos, no one to turn to and ask, “Do you have any idea what exactly we’re supposed to do with this assignment?”

You might shudder at the thought of reporting to every partner in the firm, but it’s really not that bad:


Partner #1: Hey, Ana. You got anything on your calendar for Thursday?
Ana: Nope.
P1: I’ve got a mediation to go to then. Thought I might get you out of the office a little bit.
Ana: Awesome!

Later…

Partner #2: Ana, I’ve got a deposition on Wednesday. You want to go?
Ana: Yes, indeedy!
Partner #2: Ok. I know the other partners are probably bombarding you with research projects so I figured I’ve give you a break.

In the hallway…

Partner #3: Want to take a road trip, Ana? I’ve got a hearing in small town on Tuesday.
Ana: Cool!
Partner #3: Well, you should be able to have a little fun during your internship.
Ana: Road trip! Can we drive-thru Whataburger on the way home?
Partner #3: Whatever you want, Ana.
Ana: Can we stop at the grocery store of small town and stock up on cheap plastic items in those quarter machines at the front?
Partner #3: [Gives Ana funny look.]
Ana: Oh c'mon, it would be so fun! Road trip!

After lunch...

Partner #4: Ana – wanna go golf with the client on Friday?
Ana: Um. Er. I kinda, sorta gave my clubs to goodwill when I moved to Big City.
Partner #4: Hmm. Well, if you want, you can just ride around in the cart and drink beer.
Ana: I do need a tan.

End of Day...

Partner #5: Ana, our summer associate, what have you got going on this week?
Ana: Well, let’s see – I’ve got a hearing on Tuesday, depo on Wednesday, mediation on Thursday, and an important client meeting on Friday.
Partner #5: Oh, well I was going to give you a research project, but…
Ana: Oh, I can do it.
Partner #5: Nah, you’ve got a lot on your plate.
Ana: [Grin]

Late edit - Y'all do realize that I'm making a lot of this up, right? In reality, I am drafting memos, researching, and trying not to make an idiot of myself. My blog entries about work are pretty fictional. Except for the bar story - that was legit. The work posts are fictional because I don't want to cross any lines of impropriety. The ideas for them generally stem from situations at work when I'm having a conversation and I think, "Wouldn't it be funny if..." For those that are curious, I really like my real firm, the people I work with, and the work I am doing. And I won't be saying any more about it than that.

The downside of being gainfully employed...

Last night was Wine-time-girl's birthday and we descended on Big City in pure fabulousness. Around 11:30 pm WTG looked over at me and said, "Ana...ANA!"

I had fallen asleep at a bar.

To all future law kids...

For the summer of 2L year, you spend the nine months prior busting your rear to find a J-O-B. You think it's so important, so critical to your future success.

For the summer of your 1L year, you spend the nine months prior busting your rear to find a job, paid or otherwise, that will look impressive in your interviews the following year.

Here's what I have to say about all of this. I never looked for a 1L summer job. It did not affect my ability to get a job my 2L year. Instead I did a study abroad program.

Did it affect my life? Yes, it did. This summer all of my friends from last summer are messaging each other to say, "Why the hell did we think this 2L summer job thing was so important? We could freakin' be in Paris right now."

Take my word for it. Don't worry about your resume. Don't worry about making money or not having enough to go. Take out a loan if you must. Go to Europe the summer after your 1L year. Spend six weeks in Paris. You'll be glad you did.

Classic...

Partner: Ana, do you want to come with us on the site visit to such-and-such bar?
Ana: Sure.
Partner: Ok, do you need directions?
Ana: Nope.
Partner: (jokingly) Why, you been there?
Ana: Several times.

Even better...
At bar talking with owner...
Bar owner: Did you hear about blah-di-dah at C Bar?
Ana: No way! I was just there two days ago!
Bar Owner: Yeah, and a bartender at PG got mugged a few days ago.
Ana: Omigosh, which bartender!?!?

So much for being discreet at my new job.

Awesome...

Remember how I said I choked like all holy hell on my last final to where I could barely even remember my last name? Well, the grade came back and boy, did I choke alright. I didn't just get a bad grade for me personally. I got one of the lowest grades I've ever heard of anyone getting at my school.

Had I been in a large class I think I probably would have been safe. Unfortunately for me, the class had around 10 people, was a highly specialized topic, and the bulk of the people in the class already had a background in the field. I was going have to kill myself just to reach the curve so when I choked, I knew I was toast.

I'm telling myself that if I only get one bad grade in law school then I will be okay with it. This is my first grade ever below the curve. I think now is the time to stop taking classes that interest me and start taking classes that will boost my GPA.

Nothing new...

Martha is shedding like a mad-dog! I’m hoping that this is just her transition between winter and summer coat, rather than a physical side-effect of a neurotic response to her owner being gone all day for work. If she’s like her mother then we know the answer to that question.

I’ve been trying to make it up to her. She’s had several play dates in the past week, is allowed to sleep outside of her crate, and she got a new STUFFED toy. Yeah, I gave up on the stuffed toys. She kept finding Grumpy Bear even when I hid him under pillows. Then at one play-date she played with another dog’s stuffed toy so much that the owner told me to take it. I later took the toy back, but removed the stuffed bagel from the high shelf in the closet where it’s been hidden. I think she’s in love…and I think I’m finally breaking down in some training areas due to guilt.

Amazingly, the dog’s owner is not losing her hair over the new job. After the initial adjustment of spending 8-10 hours a day locked in a box with white walls I’ve discovered that I actually like what I’m doing. Now if only I could just do it six hours a day – then maybe it would perfect. It seems so strange to me to spend so much time in an office and not only that, but for specific hours on specific days. I love how in school you go to the class the first day and they’re like, “Here’s the syllabus. This is the book. You need to know this info by X date. Study as you will.”

When you get to the final the prof does not request a sheet where you’ve logged the hours that you’ve read, studied, or reviewed. You either know it or you don’t and how you got there is immaterial. I wish more of life was like that.

Everyone at work keeps asking me if I'm happy that I only have one year left of law school. I probably shouldn't respond honestly, but I do. For some reason they give me a strange look when I admit that I'm terrified there's only one year left. I'd be more than happy to move right on to the next grad degree if I had the money.

I might still be in exam mode...

“What’s the deal? They’re trying to test me, aren’t they?”

I was standing in the office of my summer firm’s newest associate. It was nearing 5 pm and we were the only two people left in the office.

“Test you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “A test. I can come in whenever I want. I can leave whenever I want. None of my assignments have deadlines.”

“Ana, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is a very laid back law firm,” the associate said. “There’s no test. If they don’t need something immediately, they don’t give a deadline. It’s not a race for completion. The partners are most interested in your ability to write and research. That’s what they’ll be looking at this summer.”

“You’re in on it too, huh?” I asked.

“Was casual Friday a ruse?” he asked.

“No, but yesterday my partner mentioned my smoking and showed me a private area where I could go. He said not worry about being a smoker – that it was a good way to take a break, clear your head, and organize your thoughts. That was bogus, right?”

Sigh from the associate. "If they want something, they'll tell you," he said.

“I’m working on this memo. I feel like I need to turn it in, but at the same time, I’m worried that it sucks,” I continued.

“Want me to look at it?”

“OH yes, please, would you?” I beamed.

“Sure,” he said.

Ten minutes later he walked into my office.

“It’s really good,” he said. “very well-organized and a nice application of facts to prior cases. You might want to change to such-and-such font. Partner likes that font.”

“That’s it? A font change? Are you kidding me? It sucks!”

“It’s good,” he said and started to walk out of the office.

“This is another one of those tests, right?” I called after him. “I’m supposed to figure this out on my own, right?”

everybody loves martha...

My dog is the new Dog. I loved Dog, but not everyone did. When Boy and I went to a party, Dog ended up getting confined because he kept trying to hump other dogs. (Seriously people, get over it. They're dogs. That's what they do!) Martha however, is a crowd pleaser. Tonight I took her to a friend’s house and she played for hours on end with a much smaller dog. I worried at first because Martha is used to playing with large dogs, but she quickly adapted to the size differential and was playful rather than aggressive with the smaller dog. She walked out of the apartment carrying a toy.

“Let her take it!” the owner said.

Whatever. I was irked that Martha wasn’t perfect. Everyone else seemed to genuinely enjoy her.

When I got home Martha barked at a neighbor’s dog behind a fence and I let the two say hello. After a minute the owner walked out…

“Wow,” he said. “My dog usually gets so upset and paws at the ground. Look at him! He’s wagging his tail. I’ve never seen him this way around another dog. Bring your dog around any time you like!”

I would love to take credit, but I don’t think it’s me. It’s Martha. I lucked out. Martha calms me, not vice versa. [Ana gets down on her knees and thanks the dog gods.]

I never knew how much I wanted a dog. Then I met Boy's Dog. Then Boy dumped me. Then I found Martha. Sometimes fate bites you in the butt. Thanks, Boy. I owe you one.

More Martha Cuteness...

In gratitude to everyone who said she was adorable!


Who says she's not a lapdog?


What did I do now?


I don't even want to know what she just got into.


Sleepy Baby.

Mixed feelings...

When I came to law school I thought it was because I finally wanted to grow up. I thought it was because I desperately wanted to be able to afford a house. I thought it was because even though I liked my job as an accountant, I was disappointed with the lack of opportunity for moving forward in my career.

And you know what? I think that WAS why I came to law school. But then something weird happened. I moved to Big City and not just to Big City, but to the part of town known for artists, musicians, and every other uninsured professional. They all hung out at the plethora of coffeeships within walking distance. I started writing. I began to read philosophy for fun. I spent a summer in Paris. I wore the same corduroy jeans for four days in a row and didn't even think about it. My hair grew past my waist. I got a little mutt doggie. Recently I've been tempted to get a second tattoo. During my two years in Big City I've met others like me who think that the meaning of life lies in sitting around drinking beer/coffee/wine and smoking cigarettes while discussing global warming/romance/literature/religion. A few weeks ago I listened to a friend play his violin while I read The Plague by Camus. I've thrown two parties this year - one dinner party and another party centered around strange smelling cheeses. I'm the happiest I've ever been. I didn't know that this life could exist.

Today I went to work for the very first time in two years. My law job was everything I hoped for when I came to school. The people were nice and laid back. The dress was relaxed, the firm a smallish size. I had my own office with a window and a view of Big City's skyline. I wore a suit that wasn't black or navy or skirted and it wasn't a problem. My assignment was interesting and I didn't feel like I was working for the wrong side. They're paying me more than I thought I'd make. No one bossed me around. I am free to come and go as I please. It was so perfect.

But after a few hours I felt trapped. I felt confined. My area was sterile and artificial. The walls were white and bland. There was nothing in the office to lend it personality - nothing that made it any different than any other office I have ever been inside. My office was suspended far above reality. I hid my smoking - afraid I'd be looked down on. People talked about sports and asked me of my hobbies.

"I really like such and such museum," I said, "and I'm so excited I got season tickets to the opera for next year!"

Awkward pause. It sounded pretentious. If you know me, you know I wasn't being that way. I was being sincere. After that flub I didn't even go near mentioning my love of French philosophers. Instead I made a note to catch up on sports. About the closest I could come to contributing was disbelief when I realized Robert Horry is still playing in the NBA. How old is that guy?

I spent a small portion of today thinking about my perfect job and how hard I'd worked to get here...and wondering if after everything that's happened in the last two years if this is still the right thing for me to do with my life. I'm hoping that this is just an adjustment to reentering the workforce. In the meantime I'm fantasizing about painting the walls of my office purple, putting Rachmaninoff in the CD drive, placing an ashtray on my desk, and keeping a glass of red wine nearby while I work.

Doggie-Racists....

I was out walking Martha today when a guy walked past me and said, "Boy is that one ugly dog."

I stopped and turned around. "What did you say?"

"I said that's one ugly dog and one fine looking female."

I gave him a look to indicate that he had now added creepy next to offensive in his list of behaviors.

"That's one beautiful dog and one ugly female?" he said.

"Yeah, I'll take that one," I said.

"You have a funny sense of humor, lady" he said as he walked away.

I can't believe someone called Martha ugly - and just because she's different. Give me a break. She's unique. She's got so many breeds in her bloodline that she's the symbol of diversity. You can't find another dog that looks like this! That's what makes her special for crying out loud.


Look! She's brown and black and white and yellow!

YaY!!!

Guess who just got season tickets to the opera next year?

Me, me, me!

A friend from my section who did seasons to the symphony with me my 1L year asked if I wanted to do opera for the 3L year and I said YES!

Happy, happy Ana.

The opera here is awesome. I love big city. Also, they were less than $100!

Great Mysteries of Life...

Sometimes when I put on my sneakers, I go sock, sock, shoe, shoe. Other times sock, shoe, sock shoe. What accounts for the difference?

Potty Wars...

Martha had two accidents yesterday – one in front of company and the other for the personal benefit of yours truly. Before I go any further I should mention, Martha rarely has accidents – I just always post when she does. Secondly, since the first week that she’s been in the house she always tells me she needs to go outside a few minutes before the accident. Our humble owner does just not respond with enough immediacy.

So yesterday I came inside from running errands and let Martha out of the crate. I picked up my dinner on the way home and was eating it when she ran down the stairs and waited. (That’s the first sign.) A few seconds later she came up the stairs and did ‘sit’ right next to my chair. (That’s the second sign. She comes to me and does ‘sit’ whenever she wants something.)

I checked the time and counted back to when Martha had last been out. It had been around three hours so I figured she wasn’t dying or anything.

“Give me a sec,” I said. “I’m almost done and then I’m going to feed you next.”

Martha went back downstairs to wait as I called after her, “If you potty down there, you’re dead meat, my friend.”

I finished my last three bites of sandwich and started to head towards the kitchen as Martha came bounding up the stairs. I stood at the top of the stairs and looked down.

“OH YOU DID NOT!” I yelled.

“Dude,” said Martha. “I told you I needed to GO!”

(Martha’s commentary comes via facial and other physical expressions.)

“You are so toast,” I told her. “I was just going to the kitchen to feed you.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “Now that I’ve done my business I could go for some nourishment.”

“Au contraire, mon frere. You just bought yourself five minutes of crate time while I clean up your mess.”

I put Martha in her crate because as I found out early on in our relationship, she takes a certain pleasure in watching me clean up her messes. When she doesn’t get to watch, she is much less likely to go in the house. After letting her out of the crate, I took her food bowl and scooped it full of chow.

Martha did her little happy food dance – which is very funny to watch. She gets super excited when it’s chow time, but at the same moment, knows I won’t put down the bowl until she’s sitting and playing still as a rock, quiet as a mouse. To get an idea of what it’s like, imagine if you had ants in your pants, but weren’t supposed to move – that’s the Martha happy food dance.

She watched as I took the bowl and placed it not next to her crate as I normally do, but rather walked out of the kitchen and down the stairs.

“Uh, Mom,” she said as she waited at the top, “you just put my food bowl right on the spot where I just took a whiz.”

“Yep,” I replied as I headed back up the stairs. “That’s what the literature says to do.”

Supposedly a dog won’t go to the bathroom where it eats.

“What sick literature is that?!?” she asked.

I went back to my desk and sat down. Martha stayed at the top of the stairs.

She looked over at me, “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” I answered.

She waited for a few seconds in case I decided to change my mind and move the bowl.

“Okay,” she said, “I’m going in.”

“Have fun!”

She got to the bottom of the stairs, grabbed a mouthful of kibble and then ran furiously back up to the kitchen. She stood in the kitchen chewing her food and smiling at me smugly from across the hall. She thought she’d outfoxed me.

“Okay, I’m going in again,” she said and dove back down the stairs.

She was charging back up when she was met by two human legs.

“Nice try,” I told her, “but you’re eating it all and you’re eating it down there.”

As Martha trotted down the stairs I heard her grumbling obscenities and reminded myself that I need to watch my language in front of the dog. I was also mildly irritated that her French is already better than mine.

Not much to post today...

It's just been one of those 'to-do' days.

We've swept, swiffered, polished, laundried, washed dishes, paid bills, balanced check books, vacuumed, emptied trash, put books up for resale online, sorted mail, shredded superfluous items, and practiced general organization. Dog has had two walks so far today and is conked out on the floor.

A friend came over last night to visit Martha. It was awesome because this was her first 'dog-person' visitor. Martha had a small exertion of spasticity when the friend arrived and the friend was like, "It's cool."

Martha wanted love and the friend didn't get annoyed when Martha licked her. Friend knew how not to get Martha jazzed up and how to keep her under control. Martha in the meantime was pushing all of my buttons. I think I'm super sensitive to her behavior when friends are over and what makes it worse is that Martha is much less behaved around guests. She gets excited and distracted and all etiquette flies out the window. I think she will get better as time goes on and she gets more used to being around new people, but in the meantime, I'm going to have to get people to come visit and interact with bonzo dog.

Martha managed to shred paper, have an accident and jump on the furniture while my friend was over. The friend was like, "Oh, yeah. She's fine. She's adjusted to living in your house and now she trying to push the boundaries and see what she can get away with. This phase is totally normal. Just keep being firm."

Ohmigosh can this gal just come live at the house for a few weeks?

When my friend left she said, "Martha's a really well behaved dog. If you ever need to go somewhere for the weekend, don't board her. I'd be happy to take her for a couple of days."

Well-behaved dog?

I think in the general scheme of things Martha actually is pretty well-behaved. However, she's living with a person who holds everyone and everything to higher standards. It's amazing how much I'm learning about myself and my behavior through this experience.

What to do, what to do...

I have a lot to get done before I start work, but I'm reserving today for frivolous items...and I'm trying to decide what I want to do next.

So far today -
Slept in late
Walked dog
Watched cheesy soap operas in both the english and spanish language while sitting on couch with glazed eyeballs of boredom
Gave dog a bath - she smelled so good
Walked dog
Let dog play with dog next door - so much for that bath
Took shower

I tempted to go shopping - but I never go shopping - and as such, don't even know where to go! Yeah, Ana wants to go shopping. Odd.

So like two hours after the exam was over all of the info just came rushing to my head. I think I just choked big time. What an odd experience.

Oh well. I'm glad it's over.

Hmmm...

Two hours later...feeling much better. Weird. I probably won't feel this good when the grades come in though.

Wow...

That might be the first exam where I totally ate it. You name it, I did it. Concentrated on the wrong sections, got thrown at certain questions and freaked out, ran short of time, read fact patterns incorrectly. I actually walked out crying. I now understand why certain people hate exams. Believe it or not, I put a lot of effort into this class for most of the semester. In two hours I watched all of my work, my tuition money, and my GPA wash down the drain. At least it's only one class and this event probably won't affect my life overall - but geez, what a waste. I'm embarrassed by how stupid I'll look to the prof when they grade it.

I'm now back at the house - the freaking house that I've been superglued to for the last ten days. Someone come and get me out of here before I hurt the dog. I think I might actually go to a bar and drink by myself.

Update: Ok, the dog is safe. I've decided she's sweet even if she does exhibit the same traits as cling wrap.

Nice...

I love looking at portions of the reading that I've highlighted. Clearly I've read the book, but I have zero recollection of any of it. Looks like this exam is going to be my first full-fledged Hail Mary. Can you have a Hail Mary if you're a Jew?

Egad...

Half of me is excited that I'm almost done. The other half of me is flipping out over being able to review everything in time. I feel like I've been studying forever - which means I've been studying for 8 hours not including driving home, walking the dog and getting something to eat. I'm only a little more than half way - but I'm about through with the really hard to understand crud and think the second part will go much faster. The exam isn't until 2 pm so if I get up at the crack of dawn, I have a fighting chance. We will be cutting it very close however.

Well darn, I spoke too soon...

Last night I hopped into bed and turned out the lights. Martha immediately trotted to her crate and fell asleep.

"She is such an awesome dog," I said to myself.

Flash to 4 am when I awake to the sound of crying.

"Why would she be crying?" I wondered. "I left her crate open."

When the crying continued I turned on the light and began to wander around. The crying stopped, but I couldn't find Martha anywhere.

"Oh geez," I thought, "that can only mean that she's in the guest bedroom downstairs.

She was. She had jumped the baby gate, but knocked it down a little bit to where she couldn't jump back over. I peered into the guest bedroom and ohmigod, it looked like a bomb had gone off in there. Shredded paper and bags strewn across the room along with doggie droppings. I've heard of dogs doing this when you're gone, but not when you're sleeping.

I swooped her up and put her in the crate in order to clean up the mess. She howled continuously. When I got to the poo clean-up I debated. Everything I've read says you shouldn't punish the dog after its gone to the bathroom. They say the dog doesn't know what it's done wrong and you'll just confuse it. At the same time, I grew up in a home where the method of housetraining was a newspaper and the words 'bad dog.'

I debated. Martha KNEW she wasn't supposed to enter that room and Martha KNEW she wasn't supposed to go to the bathroom in the house. Martha had been out before bed and I also knew that she was capable of holding it.

"Oh well," I thought. "It's worth a shot. A generation of house-trainers can't be COMPLETELY wrong. Maybe this will help her get a really good idea that she SHOULD NOT DO THIS!"

So I went upstairs and grabbed Martha who was still barking up a storm and brought her downstairs. I showed her the mess, rolled up a New Yorker, and then I popped her one.

I didn't hurt her, but I do think I scared the bejeezus out of her. She just looked up at me like, "WHOA! You just hit me!"

That's right. Don't do it again.

After that Martha was super well behaved and didn't cry for the rest of the night. I however, could not fall back asleep and woke up really late this morning. I'm now at my library studying while she chills in her crate at home. It's not that I'm mad at her; I just couldn't deal with her being all underfoot and needy today. I've got a lot to get done.

In the meantime, Martha's going back to sleeping in the crate for awhile.

Martha's latest achievement...

As I've mentioned, Martha gets a little tense if I leave. At first I couldn't get out of her sight. She'd whine if I closed the bathroom door. The first time I took a shower she stood by the edge of the tub resting her head on the edge, watching my every move. The second shower she lay down on the bath mat. The third shower she would stop by intermittently to check on my progress. Now she goes off and plays and could care less if I close the door.

She has been less comfortable when I leave the house. For awhile I brought her outside when I smoked a cigarette. Then I started putting her in the crate. Tonight, I've left her on her own free to roam the house. She's still a little freaked out by the experience, but on the third round she actually climbed the stairs and went to do her own thing. Of course she bounded down them as soon as she heard the door, but...I'm so thrilled. Part of the reason I picked Martha was because she displayed so much independence at the shelter. No dog of mine is going to be a velcro-dog. Her owner would go insane!!!!

Also, I've stopped side-stepping her when she gets underfoot and instead just plow right through. It's amazing how quickly they learn to stay out of the way. Or maybe Martha's just a smartie. Oh no - I've become one of those owners who think their dog is smarter than everyone else's. Bear with me.

Here's some pics of Martha from last night. She was trying to look really cute while playing with her rope bone in order to distract me from studying.



PS - Does anyone else watch the Bachelor in order to feel better about themselves? It's like the Jer*ry Spring*er show for romantic relationships. I sit, watch, drink my wine, and feel so smug and superior - even though my own love life is pretty much a joke.

Save the Trees...

Two groups at my school are raising money for the general law library fund. The reason for this is because the # of books your library holds is part of the determination used in US News Law School Rankings. (Our library flooded several years ago and many books were destroyed.)

On the one hand, I applaud the efforts of the students to increase the recognition of my school. I personally really like my law school and believe that it does many great things. (Oh and Mel, our profs are totally available and accessible to the students. I felt so bad for you when I read your post-but I know it from undergrad!) On the other hand, I think that in the digital age, judging a law school by the amount of dead trees between its walls is backwards-looking. Today more and more is available on the internet and through databases. I wish the legal system would catch up in this area. Most of us rely on those databases - who actually looks things up in registers!?!? I wish that the bozos who edit the bluebook would not say that it's better to cite a printed piece than an electronic piece. (Don't the people who put that thing together go to top-ranked schools? Shouldn't they be creating the ideas of the future and moving the legal world forward towards a global tomorrow?) I'm not saying we should all start citing Wikipedia (though Posner has broached the subject and cited it in his opinions*), but there are plenty of sites with legitimate information that are more readily available and more current than what's been printed.

Granted much of the US News ranking system is screwed up. If you want to practice in Pennsylvania I would guess that you'll probably have a much easier time finding a job if you go to Temple which is somewhere around 60ish than if you go to Iowa which is hanging out in the low 20's. For the top 15 schools you can probably find a job anywhere. Anything below that, you need to look at where you want to practice. Also, just because a school is ranked a few points higher than another doesn't mean that the people in practice (ie, your future employer) think the school is better. Ultimately firms judge a school by its product - not by whether or not its cut its class size in half in order to look more selective. Blah, blah, blah - okay I'll stop.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, while it doesn't bother me that our students our trying to help raise a ranking, it does bother me that what we are doing will probably have little effect on our quality of school and the improvement of a student's law school experience. And to me it looks like we're basically throwing our money away - except we're not. We're donating dollars to buy a ranking.

*Sorry, I don't have a cite for that except to say, go to google and type in Posner, Wikipedia.

Thank goodness there's only one left...

I came to school today a couple of hours before my final. In the parking lot I ran into a friend and we ended up sitting at one of the picnic tables outside. I wasn't getting much last minute studying done, but I still had plenty of time. I figured it was a good idea to sit in the sun, chill out and chat with friends. With an hour to go I found the exam room, sat down, pulled out my computer...and realized I'd left my power cord at home. The pre-exam relaxation turned into a mad dash home.

When will this semester be over already?

I don't know WHAT my problem is...

I need to study. The exam is at 2 pm tomorrow. I've made it about 2/3 of the way through the material. I cannot bring myself to complete the process. I've been sitting in front of the computer for hours - doing very little. This is so strange.

I need a new hobby....

I talk to myself all of the time. I didn't realize how much I did this though until I got Martha. I start to say something and she runs right over thinking that I'm addressing her.

Fun, fun, fun...

Because the studying didn't go so well yesterday, I am now in the library. The third final is tomorrow. I know it generally, but not in major detail. This might have something to do with 50+ pages of reading for each assignment. Augh! I made so many mistakes this semester. Took too many hours to begin with. Scheduled them for the wrong time. Took one course where I left in near tears after every class. Have two classes where the amount of material is greater than what it should be for the credit I'm receiving. Ugh, ugh, ugh. I know, stop whining. It just sucks.

It will be over soon, and when the grades come in, I'll just have a little cry session and move on.

She makes it hard to study...

The new dog is so much more rewarding than law school.

In law school how well I know the material and how much time I spend studying never seems to make a difference when the grades come back. My highest grades tend to be in the classes into which I put the least effort. My lowest grades are in the classes where I inevitably studied my butt off. To add insult to injury, after all this effort, you end up getting pretty decent grades overall, but does this help you get a job? Heck no! For the job I got this summer, my interviewers flat out told me that they selected me for an interview due to an obscure part of my resume. I'm not complaining, but I kinda wish that my grades were at least part of it. (Who knows, maybe they are.)

Yet with the dog it's so much different. You put in the effort, you see results. You say the command enough times, follow the training directions and next thing you know, the dog can sit, stay, fetch, and walk.

So like I said, it's hard to study. I could be reviewing my material for little-to-no payoff OR I could have my dog tap-dancing by the end of the week.

Why you shouldn't take International Law classes...

Classmate: Being two of the handful of people in our class who speak English as a first language could give us a leg up on the exam.
Ana: That might be true if the prof spoke English as his first language.

[Yes, I had memories of undergrad in this class.]

Martha has finally learned "No"

As such, every other word out of my mouth has been 'No.'

I think in less than 24 hours she will probably know that she is not to lick my legs, dig in the small trash cans in the house, jump, or immediately trot outside when I open the door.

Today she's made decent progress on 'stay' and she's also learning 'go to your house,' but she's not a big fan of the latter one.

She's making really great strides, but with all of my firmness and consistency, I feel like a drill sergeant.

Also, she proved again tonight that she does NOT like waiting thirty minutes after eating to be walked. She'd been outside recently and still left a puddle by the front door. I was not impressed. In partial fairness to Martha, she came and told me she wanted to go out; I just wanted her to wait thirty minutes and I thought she would. I'm trying to decide if I should adjust and take her out earlier or work on making her adjust and go out later.

PS - I hate studying right now.

I’m struggling with studying for my final two exams. There are two reasons for this. The first reason is because I put in 12 hour days of studying leading up to my first two exams. The second reason is, my final two exams are for really small classes where the majority of my classmates always seemed to have more insight than me. Essentially, I’ll be fighting to just stay out of the bottom of the curve rather than fighting for a decent grade. So much for taking interesting non-bar-related classes.

Last night Wine-time girl and I got together to make dinner with the med students. We hadn’t had one of our dinners in weeks so we told ourselves that we needed it. I had pangs of guilt about leaving the dog. (This I need to get past!) I drank a lot of wine and chain-smoked. We pondered calling other people to come play with us, but worried that everyone would be studying. I started to get tired around 11 pm and by 12 am I was laid out on the floor. Getting up early with the dog has really messed with my schedule.

“Ana, you look thinner,” said WTG.

I have not actually lost any weight, but I have noticed that three walks with the dog each day has diminished some of the softer parts of my body. The primary area is around my waist where I began to gain a little layer of insulation as I approached thirty.

Martha reached another milestone yesterday. I decided to let her sleep outside of her crate. As I climbed into bed I crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t wake up to a collection of accidents the next morning. Guess what? No accidents! Way to go, Martha!

The only problem is, I am exhausted today. Besides getting home at a semi-decent time last night, dinner still wore me out a little. In addition, Martha didn’t immediately go to sleep last night when I did. I woke up several times during the night to hear the little clink of her collar. I’m also guessing that I slept a little lighter to listen for the sounds of her bounding down the stairs. The downstairs has the front door, but it also has the only room in my house with carpeting. Since Martha came home the room has been blocked off by a baby gate. Martha discovered a few days ago that she can jump the baby gate. She knows that she’s not allowed to go into the carpeted room, but at the same time, she’s also decided that if I don’t respond quickly enough to her standing at the front door, she will just hop the gate and use the downstairs room as restroom. I’ve caught her every single time she’s tried this and thus far we’ve avoided any accidents on the carpet, but it does create a little paranoia for her owner.

I’m hoping that tonight little M’s will do less exploring and just go to sleep. She’s pretty tuckered out today, too. I didn’t have the energy for her full morning walk, so she’s mildly irked at me for that one, but she’s still behaving. I need to run to the store to get some essentials, namely toilet paper. I’m putting it off because I feel guilty about putting Martha in the crate. I don’t know why though. One of the other things I need to get is Dog Food. I would leave her out, but I’ve found that she still gets a lot of anxiety when I do this. She also jumps the baby gate and sits in the carpeted room as it provides the entrance to the garage and she wants to be there right when I walk in the door.

Yeah, that’s all I got today. As you can see my creativity is a little tired as well. Yea for finals. Yea for soon having toilet paper.

Grumpy's Pay-off

Looks like there are more out there than just my mother who are sympathetic to Grumpy Bear's plight. A few days ago, HE got a package in the mail with a return address of Eeyore. Inside was the following letter (in crayon):

Hi Grumpy,
You probably don't remember me. That's all right. Most people don't. I hear there's a new beast in at your house. We got one about two years ago and he's still here, so might as well get used to it. He pulls my tail off all the time, but he doesn't know how to put it back. Not that I would expect him to, of course. I hope the chocolate made it okay. But I doubt it.
Your friend,
Eeyore

Enclosed were three Dove chocolate bars.



Per G's instruction, I left the bars at the door.

Later...

HEY! Pick up your trash!

Grumpy has asked me to transcribe the following thank you note to Eeyore. (He can't write very fast and likes it when I type it for him because his vocabulary is large, but his ability to spell is limited. (Warning: Grumpy can be a little affected and dramatic at times. Due to living with me for years no doubt.)

My esteemed Friend,
My profound and sincere thanks for the chocolate. Your selection of gift indicates your appreciation for the finer things in life and I feel as if I should recognize you for such. Additionally, you sent a gift that cannot be eaten by the beast - ie I DON'T HAVE TO SHARE! MUAHAHA! I think you are right that the beast is here to stay. I'm not sure what's so great about it. It wakes me up in the morning, tracks dirt inside, slops her water bowl around, and frankly, kinda smells funny. As I am pretty much in charge around here, you can imagine what this does to my workload. I have to identify the problem, assess the situation, and then delegate clean-up to another stuffed animal in the house. I'm not sure WHAT Ana was thinking. Oh well. These are the things you have to deal with when your responsible for everything due to your status in the household. She's a little screwball, but we love her. And I am definitely still top dog. (Ha-ha Get it. Top dog. I crack myself up, but I digress.) I know I'm still number one because every night Ana puts the dog in a cage and brings me out to sleep on the bed. The beast is not even allowed on the bed at any time of day. I suppose I will stick around as long as this continues. Okay, must run. I've got to clean up dog hair with the lint roller. Criminy.

Best to you,
Grumpy

PS - The tail thing sounds awful!

A nice experience...

I don’t know why, but I still visit the pet adoption website. Last night I was procrastinating and fantasizing about a sibling for Martha, so I checked the site again. I found this little guy and I froze.



“Egad,” I thought, “That looks just like Boy’s Dog!”

I’m not embarrassed to say it. I got Martha as a replacement to Boy’s Dog. Even in having Martha I have still missed Dog. When I began looking for a pet, I told myself I would wait until a dog that looked just like Dog came along. Then I stumbled across Martha. Looking at the little guy I wondered if I should have waited. Martha was bigger than I had planned for. Her hair isn’t soft. Besides her coloring she looks nothing like Dog.

When I first brought Martha home, I wondered if I had made a mistake. She needed lots of training.

“Don’t set too high of expectations for her,” Wine-Time Girl said a few days after I brought Martha home. “She’s never going to be perfect.”

“I know,” I replied. “She’s never going to be Dog.”

“Yeah,” said WTG. “Wait, what?”

A conversation ensued and WTG got irritated with me when I said that I loved Dog more than Martha.

“But Martha is YOUR DOG!” WTG said.

Whatever. I liked Martha, but she would never be Dog.

Today I drove to the shelter to see the other dog. Big city shelter is much more of a pain in the butt than small town shelter. I had to stand in line, fill out an adoption questionnaire (which included my DL #) and then wait some more before a person escorted me to the kennels. The building was not as homey as small-town shelter. The kennels were smaller and not immediately cleaned. There were lots of dogs that were clearly sick. I saw a very ill Boston Terrier who hadn't appeared on the website and I could only hope that the reason for this was because it was going to be picked up by the Boston Terrier Rescue instead of just not being available for adoption. Despite being about three times the size of the small-town shelter, big city shelter appeared to have half as many employees volunteers. There were lots of doors with tiny windows. It felt like a prison and I wanted to cry for all of the little doggies inside.

Finally I found Other Dog. He looked EXACTLY like Dog except for his markings. The guard took him out of the pen and led me to another room to play with him. Other Dog was small and curled up in a ball in my lap. His hair was soft and his face was so cute. He had Dog’s sweet eyes and his bottom row of teeth stuck out just like Dog’s. He was also kinda clingy. I stood up to give him a run through. I looked down and noticed that my clothes were covered in dog hair.

Martha doesn’t shed like that.

I grabbed his little leash and decided to take him for a little trot. He wouldn’t budge.

Okay, Martha didn’t walk perfectly when I first got her, but she at least walked and now she even knows to stop at the curb.

Other Dog jumped all over me.

Dude, Martha’s totally learned that I won’t pet her until she’s chill and in the ‘sit’ position.

As I played with Other Dog, I realized how much Martha's learned in two weeks and how hard she’s tried. Everytime Martha's learned something new, I've just moved on the next skill instead of really appreciating what she’s done. For the record:

Martha has not destroyed anything since I got her.
Martha does not cry when I put her in the crate except on occasion.
Martha has only had one accident in the last week and a half.
Martha tells me when she needs to go out.
Martha knows to sit before I feed her and before I put her leash on.
Martha knows to stop at the curb and wait until I tell her she can go.
Martha knows to chill and sit before I pet her.
Martha knows how to fetch and release.
Martha knows not to bug me when I’m at the computer.
Martha walks pretty solidly on the leash most days.

Of course here’s what I’ve been focusing on:
Martha doesn’t understand ‘stay’ yet.
Martha still has some separation anxiety issues, but she’s getting better.
Martha still tries to run out the front door if I want to step outside for a cigarette.
Martha still barks at other dogs.
Martha still jumps on strangers.

To be sure, if I owned my own home (not interested in begging my landlord for another dog right now) and had the time and strength for another two weeks of intensive training, I would have brought this little guy home.

That being said, I have a feeling that when and if I bring home a second dog, no matter how much I adore them, and no matter how quickly they adjust and learn, they will never quite be Martha.

What a weird dog...

Martha and I got caught in the rain during her post-dinner walk. As she was already wet and stinky, I figured this was as good a time as any to give her her first bath. I put on the least amount of clothing possible and threw her in the tub expecting an all out war. She amazingly stood still the whole time. After I toweled her off she ran around the apartment in a state of total bananas. At first I thought she'd had an allergic reaction to the shampoo, but no she was just like, "I'M CLEAN!! HA-HA! I'M CLEAN!"

She's now absolutely fascinated with the tub and a few minutes ago she was sitting in the bathroom making her whimper noise.

I daresay, I think she's crying because she wants another go!

Baby Steps...

I managed to get through my second final without my colon exploding. I'm calling that a success.

I guess I have calmed down...

...insofar as the dog's stomach has returned to normal and she's now sleeping. It's kind of cool having a personal barometer.

Life sucks, now move on...

I made sure to set my alarm last night.

Apparently although I set the correct time, I forgot to shift the alarm button into the on position.

I woke up an hour late. Made sure the dog got her full-length walk, but didn’t feed her breakfast. She about had a coronary when less than five minutes after coming in from the walk I put her in the crate and left.

What was supposed to be a gentle two hour review turned into 40 minutes of frenetic attempts to organize my notes.

Ten minutes into the exam my stomach imploded and I had to RUN to the bathroom. When I came back in the prof looked at me like, “Who needs to leave the exam in the first 10 minutes?”

I told myself to chill out and just take my time on the first part so that I would calm down.

I took too long.

I was frantic and couldn’t write anything. I felt like I had so much to write and no time do it to where I couldn’t even get organized. I thought of cases where I wanted to draw comparisons. I couldn’t find the cases. Imagine Ana flipping so neurotically through her casebook that the rest of the room is annoyed.

Midway through the exam my rescue and recovery program overrode my exam software. Interestingly, it opened, but the exam software wouldn’t let me close it. As such I took part of the exam with a big message block on a third of the screen to where I couldn’t read/see what I had written.

When I got home, the dog started yelping the minute I walked in the door so I knew something was up. She seemed frantic when I let her out of the crate and ran down the stairs. She stayed down there jumping up and down like a mad dog and acting really strange. I could barely get her leash on her.

We were less than fifteen seconds out the door when it became obvious that Martha’s stomach is not doing well today either.

(Ohimigod, I made the dog neurotic. I thought I’d provide this great home for her and she’d be a great companion. As it turns out, I’m not enough. Despite my efforts, I don’t spend enough time with her according to her. She’d like to be around lots of people and other dogs. I don’t have that. And to make it worse, I’ve having a negative effect on her well-being. Awesome. Not only am I not enough, I actually make her life worse. At least she’s consistent with my other relationships. Ohmigod I can’t even maintain a good relationship with a dog.)

I’m kinda feeling like a failure at everything I do, but I can’t wallow in self-pity for too long. I’ve got to study for the final tomorrow where I will probably again make a fool of myself. Awesome.

Sorry for the whine. I’m just depressed today. I’ll pull my head out of my ass here pretty soon.

How pathetic is it that my life would be so good if not for me?

Exhausted...

...looks like I'll be heading in early. This will be good because I need to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow in order to walk Martha and still get to school in time to do that 30 minutes of final review. The final goes until 1 pm so I'm hoping Martha will be cool with lasting 5-6 hours in her crate - esp since after the 1:30ish walk, her owner will be right back in her books in order to prepare for her final the next day at 9 am. Augh. How awesome is it that in 10-12 days of finals time I managed to have two back-to-back? Gotta love my administration for that one. And for those of you who are like, why didn't you ask for a reschedule? I did. Originally I had TWO on Thursday. My school will only move exam dates if you have two on the same day or one that starts after 6 pm on one day and starts at 9 am the next day. My school is pretty cool about most things, but this is not one of those things. Apparently if you schedule your classes consecutively for the same day, all of your finals are on the same day, too. Gotta love the genius who came up with that one. The fact that we don't have reading days at my school makes it all the more fun. Honestly. The last day of class was yesterday and the first day of finals is tomorrow.

PS - M's is totally tuckered out. Recently the house next door to me was sold. Guess who moved in? A lawyer and a law student. The lawyer is a chain smoker like me and is probably already tired of me seeking conversational interaction while trying to get Martha to go. The law student has a Chesapeake Retriever (adorable) and Martha stopped by to say hi tonight. Lots of play ensued. She's absolutely zonked. (And can I just say, for a dog more than twice her size, Martha kinda kicked butt.)

La-di-da...

We're at the beginning of the eve before my first final. Amazingly, I have finished rereading my 31 assignments - how much I remember them is another matter entirely as it was a wild ride.

Anyhoo, I'm feeling relaxed to be done and you know what I want? A glass of wine. Just one. One teensy glass. I can't let myself go to the store. I would never after the last week just drink one glass. It's times like this where I wish I had that wonderful boyfriend that never exists in anyone's reality. He'd say, "Hey, let's get out of the house and take a break for an hour or so."

We'd walk over to neighborhood bar. I'd have a glass of something red and we'd chat about things of no importance. I'd come home refreshed, look over my notes one more time and go to sleep.

Sigh.

I think part of the reason I don't date is because I know a real person will never be as good as my imagination...and I've gotten pretty far in life on the fumes of my imagination.

How it would go in real life...

Ana: Honey, let's go get a glass of wine.
Guy: Nah, I want to watch TV.
Ana: Yeah, speaking of the TV, would you mind turning it down? I'm trying to study.
Guy: Two seconds ago you wanted to leave and get wine. Obviously you can take a break and let me watch TV in peace since you've been such a pain in the ass for the last few days.
Ana: Yeah, but..
Guy: God, Ana. Everything is always about you, isn't it? You are the most inconsiderate person I've ever met. You selfish snit. I never can do anything right in your eyes. You're always picking me apart.
Ana: I JUST ASKED YOU TO TURN THE TV OFF FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!
Mean words ensue. Guy gets up and leaves. Ana is a bundle of nerves and sobbing incoherently. She tries to call guy ten times, but he's turned his phone off. Ana hardly gets any sleep that night and bombs her exam the next day because she spends the entire four hours wondering is she really is a selfish snit.

I know-not every guy is like that. The above just seems to be the type I go for.

Hmmm, I wonder if I can teach Martha the command, "Fetch Wine, Martha!"

Let's get Punchy!!!

Lucinda William's Essence is cranked up on the stereo and on repeat. I am wandering through the apartment singing at the top of my lungs and refusing to address the dog in anything other than French. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't understand my French either.

For what it's worth...

...the feeling of resignation is having a calming effect on me right now. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep studying up until the very end, but I've stopped beating myself up over the whole situation. Now I can't wait for May 9th.

My romantic horoscope for today...

Love's mysterious ways may yield up some secrets to you now -- if you know where (and how intently) to look. Hint: This involves focusing in with all your senses, as well as the ol' noggin.

astrology.com

I have a hard time believing that I'm going to find love in the pages of my BusLaw book today.

Terror...

The subject line could describe how I feel about my first exam tomorrow OR alternatively, it could describe the dog's behavior to a T. She's been absolutely atrocious today...and today is not the day to pull stunts. She's been barking and crying up a storm at every opportunity. This has left her owner feeling like a big ball of frazzled nerves. I am definitely not fit for public consumption at this point.

Up until now she really hadn't interfered with the studying process. I am experiencing one of those days where I just want to open the door and let her run free. (Don't worry. I won't really do it. I'm just expressing my state of being right now.) The only thing that's shut her up is her plastic nylabone - which she is destroying. Literally, I think she might be eating it.

Update: We took Martha for a looooong walk. Her owner even jogged for part of it - no small feat on the owner's behalf. Then we went to the park and found a tennis ball and I actually let her off the leash to play fetch while I prayed that another dog didn't come along. All in all she went to the bathroom four (!) times and I'm hoping that I wore her out a little. Although, she's still going nuts with the tennis ball right now, I'm predicting a long nap this afternoon. :-)

PS - I'm still hating life over here. I'm down to crunch time and trying to figure how to use those last few hours to the best of my ability. The thought of lighting up a cigarette in my house (which I never do) has crossed my mind.

Update II - approx. 20 minutes later - We put a little Enya on the player and now she's out like a light. Phew. Owner is feeling a little calmed by the music as well. I wonder if I could teach Martha yoga?