The view out of Ana's apartment.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
The Evil Owner...
Okay, so Martha gets fed twice a day, and I swear every time it's like she flips out like she hasn't seen a meal in forever. (And no, I'm not underfeeding her. She's just nuts.) Because she's so psycho about her food we've insituted a process to keep her from attacking me as I put down her food bowl. She has to sit a few feet away and then wait until I give the signal. Usually, I give it as soon as my hands have cleared the bowl area, but the other day, I was curious to see how long she'd go.
I put the bowl down and immediately her eyes were upon me, awaiting my words. I smiled and sat there. After a few seconds, she started to look disconcerted as if she wondered what to do, but she didn't want to take her eyes off me - just in case I gave the go ahead. Then a few seconds after that, you could see her thinking, "Holy crap! I'm looking at my owner, but what about the food?! What if someone's stealing the food?!?"
So with her best effort she she slowly looked away from me and down at the floor in order to ascertain the safety of her food. And as she did, drool ran out of her mouth and all over the floor like a waterfall.
I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard and felt so inadvertantly mean at the same time.
"GO! EAT!" I said.
I put the bowl down and immediately her eyes were upon me, awaiting my words. I smiled and sat there. After a few seconds, she started to look disconcerted as if she wondered what to do, but she didn't want to take her eyes off me - just in case I gave the go ahead. Then a few seconds after that, you could see her thinking, "Holy crap! I'm looking at my owner, but what about the food?! What if someone's stealing the food?!?"
So with her best effort she she slowly looked away from me and down at the floor in order to ascertain the safety of her food. And as she did, drool ran out of her mouth and all over the floor like a waterfall.
I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard and felt so inadvertantly mean at the same time.
"GO! EAT!" I said.
Love me or Don't hire me...
So like I said, I’ve got just a few days to let the real Ana shine through and toss all professional advice on personal behavior into the wind. I don’t know why I thought I had to play it meek and mild. I would rather be myself and not consider the alternative of razor blades every morning when I get up to go to work. My firm rarely hires their summer associates anyway – and it’s not like I could continue the wide-eyed, fresh-faced naïf permanently if I were hired.
Today I was having lunch with two associates and a partner from another office. The associates were pretty chatty while the partner was older and staid. Someone asked about my prior work experience, and I launched into my colorful resume, ending with my brief stint at an independent newspaper.
“Did a bunch of people there have tattoos and piercings?” an associate asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said and waited for him to ask me if I had any.
He did not.
Darn.
“Yeah, the paper was a trip,” I added. “It’s the only place I’ve ever worked that had two smoking sections. One for the cigarette smokers and one for the pot smokers.”
The two associates suddenly became quiet.
The partner erupted in laughter.
Of course he probably ran back to hiring committee and was like, “Absolute no on the Ana kid,” but oh well. It’s just nice to be me after six weeks.
Later in the day, the doting-partner called to make sure I’d eaten lunch. We’re going to have to come up with a way to let him down easy.
Today I was having lunch with two associates and a partner from another office. The associates were pretty chatty while the partner was older and staid. Someone asked about my prior work experience, and I launched into my colorful resume, ending with my brief stint at an independent newspaper.
“Did a bunch of people there have tattoos and piercings?” an associate asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said and waited for him to ask me if I had any.
He did not.
Darn.
“Yeah, the paper was a trip,” I added. “It’s the only place I’ve ever worked that had two smoking sections. One for the cigarette smokers and one for the pot smokers.”
The two associates suddenly became quiet.
The partner erupted in laughter.
Of course he probably ran back to hiring committee and was like, “Absolute no on the Ana kid,” but oh well. It’s just nice to be me after six weeks.
Later in the day, the doting-partner called to make sure I’d eaten lunch. We’re going to have to come up with a way to let him down easy.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Why I love people from SoCal...
Today I was in another office chatting with a partner who grew up in the same area of Cali as my parents.
Partner: So, Ana. Where in Big City do you live?
Ana: Rosemont! (No, that’s not the actual name, but that’s what we’re calling it on the blog.)
Partner: Oh, my wife and I really like that area.
For the record, Rosemont is full of museums and coffee shops and all the interesting things life has to offer. I love it. However, many people raise their eyebrows when I mention my neighborhood. To give you an idea, Wikipedia describes it as a cross between Haight-Ashbury and The Castro which, for those of you who don’t know San Francisco, means my neighborhood is predominantly GLBT and Hippie. Lots o’ queens. Lots o’ drugs. Lots o’ art. Lots o’ love. Fun parties. Hipsters, go home! (Not you, Alex - you're just a pseudo-Hipster so you can stay...heeheehee.)
Later in the day…
Partner: What did you do this weekend, Ana?
Ana: Oh! My friend Alex and I went to ‘hole-in-the-wall’ Mexican restaurant and then wandered around my neighborhood visiting the thrift stores because the gay pride festival was this weekend, and everyone was out and about! [For those who are curious - I got a fun leather wrist band; Alex, a $1 t-shirt that said, "Nebraska - you'd be amazed what we can do with corn." I tried to flirt with a store clerk who had deep-set eyes and wavy long hair, but he was oblivious. Alex thinks my taste in men is the result of living in Austin for too long. I think we need to go back to the store to find out if the boy was in a band.]
Partner: Yeah, my wife and I drove down Big City street around 5 pm and the neighborhood was packed. I was surprised as the parade didn’t start until 9!
Ana: I’m so mad I missed the parade! I totally went last year!
Why Ana thinks this is cool…
Partner talked with me about my neighborhood as if a) it was totally neato and b) it was totally normal to spend your weekend going to the gay pride festival. I found this to be a refreshing change from the average legal experience.
Ana’s had to tone down her personality and experiences this summer. Actually, scratch that, for some reason Ana felt as if she needed to take on a corporate-like appearance/demeanor for work, and she's starting to go a little crazy. She talks rarely about her personal life and as a result, most of her office thinks she has little to no life beyond Martha. There’s one partner in her office who often likes to comment on Ana’s sheltered life and how young, innocent, and naïve she is. I mentioned this the other night to a group of friends and they erupted in laughter. Part of me is proud that I’m able to pull it off; part of me wanted to kill myself the other night when I left a firm party and other-partner kissed my forehead as I walked out the door.
In reality I have no idea if this gang would like my actual personality, but I've got four days to show them who I really am. Here comes the fun.
My yippee news for the day:
Someone near and dear in my life gave me for Spanish lessons for my birthday. Alex wants to get in on the action - so next fall we’re going to take the classes at other-university together. We’ve already pre-planned study sessions that must include a different Mexican beer each week. Think we can't learn Spanish while drinking? Si, se puede! (Ana would like to note she is drinking wine right now.)
PS - Thanks for the Regina Spektor CD, Alex! Me likey.
Partner: So, Ana. Where in Big City do you live?
Ana: Rosemont! (No, that’s not the actual name, but that’s what we’re calling it on the blog.)
Partner: Oh, my wife and I really like that area.
For the record, Rosemont is full of museums and coffee shops and all the interesting things life has to offer. I love it. However, many people raise their eyebrows when I mention my neighborhood. To give you an idea, Wikipedia describes it as a cross between Haight-Ashbury and The Castro which, for those of you who don’t know San Francisco, means my neighborhood is predominantly GLBT and Hippie. Lots o’ queens. Lots o’ drugs. Lots o’ art. Lots o’ love. Fun parties. Hipsters, go home! (Not you, Alex - you're just a pseudo-Hipster so you can stay...heeheehee.)
Later in the day…
Partner: What did you do this weekend, Ana?
Ana: Oh! My friend Alex and I went to ‘hole-in-the-wall’ Mexican restaurant and then wandered around my neighborhood visiting the thrift stores because the gay pride festival was this weekend, and everyone was out and about! [For those who are curious - I got a fun leather wrist band; Alex, a $1 t-shirt that said, "Nebraska - you'd be amazed what we can do with corn." I tried to flirt with a store clerk who had deep-set eyes and wavy long hair, but he was oblivious. Alex thinks my taste in men is the result of living in Austin for too long. I think we need to go back to the store to find out if the boy was in a band.]
Partner: Yeah, my wife and I drove down Big City street around 5 pm and the neighborhood was packed. I was surprised as the parade didn’t start until 9!
Ana: I’m so mad I missed the parade! I totally went last year!
Why Ana thinks this is cool…
Partner talked with me about my neighborhood as if a) it was totally neato and b) it was totally normal to spend your weekend going to the gay pride festival. I found this to be a refreshing change from the average legal experience.
Ana’s had to tone down her personality and experiences this summer. Actually, scratch that, for some reason Ana felt as if she needed to take on a corporate-like appearance/demeanor for work, and she's starting to go a little crazy. She talks rarely about her personal life and as a result, most of her office thinks she has little to no life beyond Martha. There’s one partner in her office who often likes to comment on Ana’s sheltered life and how young, innocent, and naïve she is. I mentioned this the other night to a group of friends and they erupted in laughter. Part of me is proud that I’m able to pull it off; part of me wanted to kill myself the other night when I left a firm party and other-partner kissed my forehead as I walked out the door.
In reality I have no idea if this gang would like my actual personality, but I've got four days to show them who I really am. Here comes the fun.
My yippee news for the day:
Someone near and dear in my life gave me for Spanish lessons for my birthday. Alex wants to get in on the action - so next fall we’re going to take the classes at other-university together. We’ve already pre-planned study sessions that must include a different Mexican beer each week. Think we can't learn Spanish while drinking? Si, se puede! (Ana would like to note she is drinking wine right now.)
PS - Thanks for the Regina Spektor CD, Alex! Me likey.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Yeah, sorry for the lack of posting.
I'm totally bored with life.
And totally bored with my job.
Ergo, no posts.
I can't wait to be done and back to reading books, daily wine drinking, and random discussions about the meaning of life.
I've now gone eight days without a cigarette. I no longer want to beat the crap out of anyone. My suit pants are getting a little snug, though. Looks like I might have to add some kind of workout to my plans for the second half of summer. If I manage to start working out and quit smoking in the same summer, run for cover because hell has frozen over and the end of the world is probably near.
I'm totally bored with life.
And totally bored with my job.
Ergo, no posts.
I can't wait to be done and back to reading books, daily wine drinking, and random discussions about the meaning of life.
I've now gone eight days without a cigarette. I no longer want to beat the crap out of anyone. My suit pants are getting a little snug, though. Looks like I might have to add some kind of workout to my plans for the second half of summer. If I manage to start working out and quit smoking in the same summer, run for cover because hell has frozen over and the end of the world is probably near.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
No Smoking and the Office Environment...
Wednesday
Partner: Ana, you’re eating a lot of carrots lately.
Ana: [chomp, chomp, chomp] I’m trying to quit smoking.
Partner: Seriously?!?
Ana: Yep. [chomp] I’ve lasted two days so far.
Partner: Is that why you’ve been such a bitch the last few days?
Ana: [chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp]
Thursday
Partner: Where are the carrots?
Ana: I ran out and didn’t have time to get some at the store.
Partner: Are you going to be okay?
Ana: GET OUT OF MY OFFICE! Yeah, I should be alright. Maybe just a little irritable.
Partner: Why couldn't you just wait another two weeks to quit?
Later in the morning…
Ana: [Grumble, grumble, grumble, grumble]
Partner: Ana, why don’t you go outside and smoke a carrot?
At lunch…
Ana: Please don’t judge me, but I need a drink, and I’m going to order a margarita.
Partner [To the waiter]: Make it a pitcher.
The afternoon was pleasant. I'm glad they understand me at my office. It is summer, and Paris Roomie does refer to me as the 'liquid luncher.'
Partner: Ana, you’re eating a lot of carrots lately.
Ana: [chomp, chomp, chomp] I’m trying to quit smoking.
Partner: Seriously?!?
Ana: Yep. [chomp] I’ve lasted two days so far.
Partner: Is that why you’ve been such a bitch the last few days?
Ana: [chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp]
Thursday
Partner: Where are the carrots?
Ana: I ran out and didn’t have time to get some at the store.
Partner: Are you going to be okay?
Ana: GET OUT OF MY OFFICE! Yeah, I should be alright. Maybe just a little irritable.
Partner: Why couldn't you just wait another two weeks to quit?
Later in the morning…
Ana: [Grumble, grumble, grumble, grumble]
Partner: Ana, why don’t you go outside and smoke a carrot?
At lunch…
Ana: Please don’t judge me, but I need a drink, and I’m going to order a margarita.
Partner [To the waiter]: Make it a pitcher.
The afternoon was pleasant. I'm glad they understand me at my office. It is summer, and Paris Roomie does refer to me as the 'liquid luncher.'
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Guess what? I want a cigarette. And I hate everyone and everything until this urge goes away. I’ve wanted one for about six hours. It’s not an overwhelming desire, rather a slow, dull pain. It doesn’t help that I ran out of wine and am now drinking beer. I have to be in the right mood to enjoy beer. Apparently I am not in that mood. Chocolate is good right now. Chocolate also makes you fat, so it’s kind of a trade-off.
I don’t want to work. I don’t want to be nice. I don’t want to play with the dog. I want to be a spoiled brat and have people tell me how great I am for trying to quit followed by the gift of a cookie and a gold star on my forehead.
I also want that little dog named Pepper, and am mad that I don’t own a home (meaning – don’t have to ask anyone if I can get a dog and/or pay a pet deposit).
I amazed at how the lack of cigarette can make me feel so grumpy. Even the polite people irritate me. Unfortunately if I cave in, I won’t hate everyone else any longer, but I will hate myself. No offense, but I’d rather hate you.
Don’t take it personally. I can’t stand everyone equally.
Oh, fine. Be that way!
I would admit to secretly loving you guys, but I don't do cheesy baloney like that.
I WANT A CIGARETTE!!!
I don’t want to work. I don’t want to be nice. I don’t want to play with the dog. I want to be a spoiled brat and have people tell me how great I am for trying to quit followed by the gift of a cookie and a gold star on my forehead.
I also want that little dog named Pepper, and am mad that I don’t own a home (meaning – don’t have to ask anyone if I can get a dog and/or pay a pet deposit).
I amazed at how the lack of cigarette can make me feel so grumpy. Even the polite people irritate me. Unfortunately if I cave in, I won’t hate everyone else any longer, but I will hate myself. No offense, but I’d rather hate you.
Don’t take it personally. I can’t stand everyone equally.
Oh, fine. Be that way!
I would admit to secretly loving you guys, but I don't do cheesy baloney like that.
I WANT A CIGARETTE!!!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Spending Habits...
Things you can probably do without formal training: Make a Budget
What I did Saturday: Next year’s Budget, then cried, then went shopping…at Target.
Why I went shopping: Final send-off to expenditures. Plus, who can feel bad about spending $7 on tank tops?
Creative pay-off: I bought a skirt that’s actually supposed to be a top. Just buy a size up and wear backwards so that the rump fills the area designed for the chest.
My 'skirt'
Things that would help if you had training: Quitting smoking.
What I did Sunday: Didn’t buy cigarettes.
Why: see above
How I’m doing: I’m drinking…and trying to see if I can get cheaper wine by ordering it in bulk online.
How much I can save if I pull this off: $1620/year
What that amounts to: About a month’s worth of living expenses.
Things you should probably not do without any training: Cut your own hair.
What I did today: Cut my own hair…for the first time.
Why: see above regarding budget.
How I’m doing: Wondering if I can get someone to help me with that back part.
How much I can save if I pull this off: about $120/year
What that amounts to: about 27 packs of cigarettes...what?
Things you should do at your own risk: Eat yogurt that expired a week ago.
What I did today: :-)
Why I did this: Like I’m going to waste a dollar’s worth of yogurt?
How did it turn out?: Tasted fine and I’m still breathing. I figured it was a win-win because even if I got food-poisoning it would cut down on my food expenses for awhile.
Today’s interesting Martha tidbit: Martha slips and slides on my wood floors. When she has an itch that she really needs to scratch, she comes and sits on my foot…for traction.
Today’s interesting Ana tidbit: If Ana doesn’t find a full-time job by next July, she’s toast (financially). If she hasn’t found one by next January, she might be a basket-case (mentally). But besides that life is good.
What I did Saturday: Next year’s Budget, then cried, then went shopping…at Target.
Why I went shopping: Final send-off to expenditures. Plus, who can feel bad about spending $7 on tank tops?
Creative pay-off: I bought a skirt that’s actually supposed to be a top. Just buy a size up and wear backwards so that the rump fills the area designed for the chest.
My 'skirt'
Things that would help if you had training: Quitting smoking.
What I did Sunday: Didn’t buy cigarettes.
Why: see above
How I’m doing: I’m drinking…and trying to see if I can get cheaper wine by ordering it in bulk online.
How much I can save if I pull this off: $1620/year
What that amounts to: About a month’s worth of living expenses.
Things you should probably not do without any training: Cut your own hair.
What I did today: Cut my own hair…for the first time.
Why: see above regarding budget.
How I’m doing: Wondering if I can get someone to help me with that back part.
How much I can save if I pull this off: about $120/year
What that amounts to: about 27 packs of cigarettes...what?
Things you should do at your own risk: Eat yogurt that expired a week ago.
What I did today: :-)
Why I did this: Like I’m going to waste a dollar’s worth of yogurt?
How did it turn out?: Tasted fine and I’m still breathing. I figured it was a win-win because even if I got food-poisoning it would cut down on my food expenses for awhile.
Today’s interesting Martha tidbit: Martha slips and slides on my wood floors. When she has an itch that she really needs to scratch, she comes and sits on my foot…for traction.
Today’s interesting Ana tidbit: If Ana doesn’t find a full-time job by next July, she’s toast (financially). If she hasn’t found one by next January, she might be a basket-case (mentally). But besides that life is good.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Need your very own Martha?
You might have noticed a link for Petfinder.com at the bottom of the links to the left. I found Martha through a Petfinder search.
At any rate, I still check Petfinder about twice a week and wanted to let you guys know about two dogs I really like.
This is Willie.
Willie is from New Orleans, but came to a small town outside of Big City after his owner died. (I think a lot of New Orleans is still not 'fully' up and running.) Willie is supposedly house-trained and a champ with other dogs. He has been available for adoption since I got Martha and he was next on my list of dogs to visit if she had not been the one. Willie is a Boston Terrier/Min Pin mix, and I think he is just adorable. He's at a foster home which is great, but I don't know how much exposure he gets to potential owners.
Next is Pepper.
Pepper is currently at the same small town shelter where I found Martha. In fact, it looks like she might even be related! Her face is wrinkly just like Martha, but she definitely has the ears of Boy's Dog. Pepper is a Boston Terrier Mix and came to the shelter as a stray just like my little partner in crime.
If you live near Big City (and you know who you are) and might be interested in a doggie, please check these kids out. I would guess that Willie is less than 20 pounds and Pepper is around 30 pounds, but she might be a little tinier. Email Ana for more info.
Are you surprised to learn that as a small child I used to bring home stray dogs? My mother thought for sure I would become a vet.
At any rate, I still check Petfinder about twice a week and wanted to let you guys know about two dogs I really like.
This is Willie.
Willie is from New Orleans, but came to a small town outside of Big City after his owner died. (I think a lot of New Orleans is still not 'fully' up and running.) Willie is supposedly house-trained and a champ with other dogs. He has been available for adoption since I got Martha and he was next on my list of dogs to visit if she had not been the one. Willie is a Boston Terrier/Min Pin mix, and I think he is just adorable. He's at a foster home which is great, but I don't know how much exposure he gets to potential owners.
Next is Pepper.
Pepper is currently at the same small town shelter where I found Martha. In fact, it looks like she might even be related! Her face is wrinkly just like Martha, but she definitely has the ears of Boy's Dog. Pepper is a Boston Terrier Mix and came to the shelter as a stray just like my little partner in crime.
If you live near Big City (and you know who you are) and might be interested in a doggie, please check these kids out. I would guess that Willie is less than 20 pounds and Pepper is around 30 pounds, but she might be a little tinier. Email Ana for more info.
Are you surprised to learn that as a small child I used to bring home stray dogs? My mother thought for sure I would become a vet.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Here comes Friday...
So I’m past the half-way point with my internship and you know what that means. For the next few weeks I will no longer be whining about getting up and going to work in the big box every day. Instead I will be whining about how great this job is and how sad I am that it will be over soon. Such is the life of Ana.
I have to admit this experience has restored my faith in the legal world. The people I work with are honest, straight-forward and try to do the right thing. It makes me feel a little better that there might be a place for me somewhere in the wide world of practicing law.
And here’s today intern experience…
Partner walks by my door at the end of the day.
Partner: I won’t be here tomorrow.
Ana: Okay.
Partner: And the girls won’t be here tomorrow.
Ana: Okay. (And now remembering that another person started vacation today.)
Partner: Actually, I’m not sure if anyone’s going to be here tomorrow.
Ana: (deflated) Okay.
Partner: Well, you can call if you need anything.
Ana: (sniffling) Okay.
Partner: See you Monday.
Ana gets up and starts walking the halls, poking her head into offices.
Ana: Will you be here tomorrow?
Partner: No.
Ana: Will you be here tomorrow?
Secretary: No.
Ana: (in Partner #2’s office) I’m going to go insane tomorrow.
Partner #2: Why?
Ana: None of you will be here.
Partner #2: I think Jr. Associate will be here at some point.
Ana: Really? YAY!
Partner #2: But I think he’ll only be here for a few hours.
Ana: Oh.
Partner #2: Want my advice?
Ana: Okay.
Partner #2: Come in late and leave early.
Ana: OH!
I have to admit this experience has restored my faith in the legal world. The people I work with are honest, straight-forward and try to do the right thing. It makes me feel a little better that there might be a place for me somewhere in the wide world of practicing law.
And here’s today intern experience…
Partner walks by my door at the end of the day.
Partner: I won’t be here tomorrow.
Ana: Okay.
Partner: And the girls won’t be here tomorrow.
Ana: Okay. (And now remembering that another person started vacation today.)
Partner: Actually, I’m not sure if anyone’s going to be here tomorrow.
Ana: (deflated) Okay.
Partner: Well, you can call if you need anything.
Ana: (sniffling) Okay.
Partner: See you Monday.
Ana gets up and starts walking the halls, poking her head into offices.
Ana: Will you be here tomorrow?
Partner: No.
Ana: Will you be here tomorrow?
Secretary: No.
Ana: (in Partner #2’s office) I’m going to go insane tomorrow.
Partner #2: Why?
Ana: None of you will be here.
Partner #2: I think Jr. Associate will be here at some point.
Ana: Really? YAY!
Partner #2: But I think he’ll only be here for a few hours.
Ana: Oh.
Partner #2: Want my advice?
Ana: Okay.
Partner #2: Come in late and leave early.
Ana: OH!
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Thank Goodness!
From the WSJ Law Blog:
I have to say - I found this line to be an amazing relief. You see, for the last two years every guy I've dated has made a sudden admission after a few dates confessing a recent diagnosis of some type of emotional disorder for which he is receiving medication.
I was starting to think it was me.
This is why modern science sucks. How come no one deals with their problems by simply getting drunk anymore? This whole Zoloft/Lamictal/Prozac insurgence is a worse fad than parachute pants. Alcoholism may not be trendy, but it is classic.
“The emotional distress of law students appears to significantly exceed that of medical students and at times approach that of psychiatric populations.”
I have to say - I found this line to be an amazing relief. You see, for the last two years every guy I've dated has made a sudden admission after a few dates confessing a recent diagnosis of some type of emotional disorder for which he is receiving medication.
I was starting to think it was me.
This is why modern science sucks. How come no one deals with their problems by simply getting drunk anymore? This whole Zoloft/Lamictal/Prozac insurgence is a worse fad than parachute pants. Alcoholism may not be trendy, but it is classic.
So happy...
Today was awesome.
Sometime after lunch in the law firm…
Ana’sPartner: Ana, why don’t you take the afternoon off?
Ana: Huh-wha?!
Partner: Yeah, go home. Go play with Martha.
Ana: Um, it’s kind of early in the day.
Partner: It’s summer. It’s nice outside.
Ana: [thinking - But I'm only working for a few weeks, and you're NOT paying me by the hour? Is this a test?] Can I really go home?
Partner: You’ve done all the stuff I needed you to do. Got anything due to Partner #2?
Ana: No, I finished it this morning.
Partner: Partner #3?
Ana: A little bit, but nothing pressing.
Partner: Then go home.
Ana: But…
Partner: I don’t offer this very often.
Ana: I’m gone.
So what did I do with my afternoon?
Well first, because I wasn’t racing home to let the dog out, I stopped to fill my car with gas, buy cigarettes, and get something to eat. This sounds minor, but it felt very indulgent.
After I got home, I began my new strategy with the dog – ignored her for the first five minutes I was home, ignored her for another five minutes after I let her out of the crate.
I ate my lunch and then pondered. I could do anything. What did I want to do?!?!
You know all those little tiny chores that never get done because you don’t really need to do them? Those little chores that once completed make you feel like you’re super organized and have a seemingly profound effect on your mental well-being? Between getting Martha, taking finals, and starting work, I haven’t really had any down time in a few months. My house is a minor disaster area. The laundry and grocery shopping get done, but that’s about it. So yeah, today was teeny-tiny chore day!
The entire downstairs of my house is carpeted. As such, that’s where I keep the vacuum. The only carpeted portion on the top floor of my house is a small space in my bedroom closet. It gets vacuumed about once a year because a) I have to haul the vacuum up the stairs, and b) I have to clean all the junk off the floor prior to vacuuming.
Voila!
All those shoes – and yet the only ones I ever wear are the half-dead Converse on the floor. I wish I had a ‘before’ picture. There were piles of clothes everywhere – one pile of clean clothes, one pile of clothes that needed to be ironed, one pile of dirty clothes, and one pile of “I’m not sure if these are clean or dirty clothes.” And yes, that is a frog wearing sunglasses and holding a magic wand. There's some crazy stuff that happens at my place.
In school, I usually just carry a backpack. In fact, I would prefer to not to own a purse. However, when work started I figured they’d look at me funny if I came in with a backpack. (I stood firm on substituting a briefcase with my standard canvas book bag from Powell’s. Amazingly, another attorney in the office also uses a canvas bag as document toter.)
I’ve got little purses that I carry when I go out, but I hadn’t used giganto purse since my last job.
Behold, Giganto Purse.
Normally, I would have cleaned out the purse prior to starting work. Unfortunately, the day I was supposed to start work and the day I thought I was supposed to start work were two different days. The night before my actual start date, I double-checked my letter from the firm. It was 3 am and I had just returned from the bar. I made it to work on my first day, but the purse didn’t get cleaned.
So today I went through giganto purse and got rid of my ID card from my old job, my health insurance card, receipts, various discount cards from Austin merchants, sixteen thousand forms of breath fresheners, old business cards, and tiny scraps of paper. At the end, I turned the purse upside down to let dirt and tobacco fall into the trash can. Awesome.
Then, I remembered that Martha’s leash has gotten kind of stinky, so I did a little rinse-a-roo with some dishwashing detergent. That thing was dirty!
Because wine bottles take up a lot of space in the trashcan, I just line them up next to it. After a couple of weeks, I really start to look like a wino. It’s kind of embarrassing when people visit.
Those bottles are gone!
Magazine Rack?
Why yes, that is a pocket Yahtzee on the back lid.
OOOH! Organized! Notice the big pile of mags in the trash.
You know how you regularly clean the top of the stove, but often forget to clean the sides?
Pretty.
And you know how grime builds up in the hard to reach grooves of your toothbrush holder?
Cleaned them!
Other stuff?
Washed Martha’s food and water bowls.
Dumped trash.
Went through receipts.
Shredded old letters and magazine address labels.
Put away clean clothes.
Washed towels.
Ironed shirts.
Went through papers on desk.
Cleaned bathroom sink.
Cleaned kitchen counters.
Washed dishes – no dishwasher at Ana’s house.
Swept.
Swiffered.
Dusted.
Cleaned-out freezer.
Sprayed patio with insecticide.
One major item – I mopped the kitchen which has not been mopped since I brought Martha home. It was so gross. It is now so clean. It even smells good.
I am one happy kid tonight.
And I’m fired up to go to work tomorrow!
Sometime after lunch in the law firm…
Ana’sPartner: Ana, why don’t you take the afternoon off?
Ana: Huh-wha?!
Partner: Yeah, go home. Go play with Martha.
Ana: Um, it’s kind of early in the day.
Partner: It’s summer. It’s nice outside.
Ana: [thinking - But I'm only working for a few weeks, and you're NOT paying me by the hour? Is this a test?] Can I really go home?
Partner: You’ve done all the stuff I needed you to do. Got anything due to Partner #2?
Ana: No, I finished it this morning.
Partner: Partner #3?
Ana: A little bit, but nothing pressing.
Partner: Then go home.
Ana: But…
Partner: I don’t offer this very often.
Ana: I’m gone.
So what did I do with my afternoon?
Well first, because I wasn’t racing home to let the dog out, I stopped to fill my car with gas, buy cigarettes, and get something to eat. This sounds minor, but it felt very indulgent.
After I got home, I began my new strategy with the dog – ignored her for the first five minutes I was home, ignored her for another five minutes after I let her out of the crate.
I ate my lunch and then pondered. I could do anything. What did I want to do?!?!
You know all those little tiny chores that never get done because you don’t really need to do them? Those little chores that once completed make you feel like you’re super organized and have a seemingly profound effect on your mental well-being? Between getting Martha, taking finals, and starting work, I haven’t really had any down time in a few months. My house is a minor disaster area. The laundry and grocery shopping get done, but that’s about it. So yeah, today was teeny-tiny chore day!
The entire downstairs of my house is carpeted. As such, that’s where I keep the vacuum. The only carpeted portion on the top floor of my house is a small space in my bedroom closet. It gets vacuumed about once a year because a) I have to haul the vacuum up the stairs, and b) I have to clean all the junk off the floor prior to vacuuming.
Voila!
All those shoes – and yet the only ones I ever wear are the half-dead Converse on the floor. I wish I had a ‘before’ picture. There were piles of clothes everywhere – one pile of clean clothes, one pile of clothes that needed to be ironed, one pile of dirty clothes, and one pile of “I’m not sure if these are clean or dirty clothes.” And yes, that is a frog wearing sunglasses and holding a magic wand. There's some crazy stuff that happens at my place.
In school, I usually just carry a backpack. In fact, I would prefer to not to own a purse. However, when work started I figured they’d look at me funny if I came in with a backpack. (I stood firm on substituting a briefcase with my standard canvas book bag from Powell’s. Amazingly, another attorney in the office also uses a canvas bag as document toter.)
I’ve got little purses that I carry when I go out, but I hadn’t used giganto purse since my last job.
Behold, Giganto Purse.
Normally, I would have cleaned out the purse prior to starting work. Unfortunately, the day I was supposed to start work and the day I thought I was supposed to start work were two different days. The night before my actual start date, I double-checked my letter from the firm. It was 3 am and I had just returned from the bar. I made it to work on my first day, but the purse didn’t get cleaned.
So today I went through giganto purse and got rid of my ID card from my old job, my health insurance card, receipts, various discount cards from Austin merchants, sixteen thousand forms of breath fresheners, old business cards, and tiny scraps of paper. At the end, I turned the purse upside down to let dirt and tobacco fall into the trash can. Awesome.
Then, I remembered that Martha’s leash has gotten kind of stinky, so I did a little rinse-a-roo with some dishwashing detergent. That thing was dirty!
Because wine bottles take up a lot of space in the trashcan, I just line them up next to it. After a couple of weeks, I really start to look like a wino. It’s kind of embarrassing when people visit.
Those bottles are gone!
Magazine Rack?
Why yes, that is a pocket Yahtzee on the back lid.
OOOH! Organized! Notice the big pile of mags in the trash.
You know how you regularly clean the top of the stove, but often forget to clean the sides?
Pretty.
And you know how grime builds up in the hard to reach grooves of your toothbrush holder?
Cleaned them!
Other stuff?
Washed Martha’s food and water bowls.
Dumped trash.
Went through receipts.
Shredded old letters and magazine address labels.
Put away clean clothes.
Washed towels.
Ironed shirts.
Went through papers on desk.
Cleaned bathroom sink.
Cleaned kitchen counters.
Washed dishes – no dishwasher at Ana’s house.
Swept.
Swiffered.
Dusted.
Cleaned-out freezer.
Sprayed patio with insecticide.
One major item – I mopped the kitchen which has not been mopped since I brought Martha home. It was so gross. It is now so clean. It even smells good.
I am one happy kid tonight.
And I’m fired up to go to work tomorrow!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Give me a break...
I can't believe that after a judge granted Genarlow Wilson a writ of habeas corpus today, the flippin' Georgia D.A. appealed.
Talk about stupid. Georgia, you need to let this go.
For those unfamiliar with the case, Wilson was a 17 year old high school senior who had consensual oral s*ex with a 15 year old. Had he engaged in intercourse, he would have received a misdemeanor or something like that under the Romeo and Juliet exception. However, since it was the other kind, he was charged with aggravated child mole*station and received a 10 year sentence. He's been in jail for over two years.
After his case received much media, the Georgia legislature revised the loophole, and a judge voided Wilson's sentence. The cheeseball DA is claiming that because the law isn't retroactive, Wilson shouldn't be allowed to be released.
Oh yeah, and I don't know if any of this matters, but he was an honor student, the prom king, and an African-American. Even if it's not racially-motivated, it provides a lot of opportunity for people to point fingers and say it is.
Talk about stupid. Georgia, you need to let this go.
For those unfamiliar with the case, Wilson was a 17 year old high school senior who had consensual oral s*ex with a 15 year old. Had he engaged in intercourse, he would have received a misdemeanor or something like that under the Romeo and Juliet exception. However, since it was the other kind, he was charged with aggravated child mole*station and received a 10 year sentence. He's been in jail for over two years.
After his case received much media, the Georgia legislature revised the loophole, and a judge voided Wilson's sentence. The cheeseball DA is claiming that because the law isn't retroactive, Wilson shouldn't be allowed to be released.
Oh yeah, and I don't know if any of this matters, but he was an honor student, the prom king, and an African-American. Even if it's not racially-motivated, it provides a lot of opportunity for people to point fingers and say it is.
Oh, the drawing board...
Okay, so this whole feeling super guilty about leaving Martha alone during the day and making sure to shower her with extra affection when I return home?
Bad idea.
Bad idea because Martha now thinks she is the new boss and when I step outside during the evening to smoke a cigarette, she gets miffed because WHO TOLD THE OWNER THAT SHE COULD LEAVE FOR TEN MINUTES!
The owner comes back inside to find massive amounts of shredded paper on the floor that dog acquired from the top of owner's desk.
Martha struts around the house as if to say, "That's what you get."
I'm sure if she could stick her tongue out at me she would.
Guess what, Martha. Ana is in charge. Ana pays the rent, and Ana feeds you.
Get ready for winds of change.
(Yeah, I'm in a battle of wills with my dog. I'm pathetic. I know.)
Bad idea.
Bad idea because Martha now thinks she is the new boss and when I step outside during the evening to smoke a cigarette, she gets miffed because WHO TOLD THE OWNER THAT SHE COULD LEAVE FOR TEN MINUTES!
The owner comes back inside to find massive amounts of shredded paper on the floor that dog acquired from the top of owner's desk.
Martha struts around the house as if to say, "That's what you get."
I'm sure if she could stick her tongue out at me she would.
Guess what, Martha. Ana is in charge. Ana pays the rent, and Ana feeds you.
Get ready for winds of change.
(Yeah, I'm in a battle of wills with my dog. I'm pathetic. I know.)
Mondays...
So, I was cruising along in work today – totally on schedule to get stuff done by the end of the day. Then between 3-3:15 pm no less than three partners came to my office and dropped work on my desk. This didn’t actually bother me. What did bother me was the fact that the assignment I thought would take about thirty minutes ended up taking me the rest of the day. …And I still didn’t find the answer – but the most annoying part was, I know the answer; I just couldn’t find it in the Code. Two hours of my life – wasted and fruitless.
Tomorrow I’ll have to cruise on an assignment with a deadline before I head off to out-of-office appointments. Stress. The deadline assignment has kind of put me on edge. You see, I’m doing something that I think the partner thinks I’ve been taught how to do – but I have no clue. Never seen this stuff before. And I don’t want to admit to not knowing because I don’t want him to give me fewer assignments OR think I’m an idiot. At the same time, I got my first returned piece of work today in relation to the assignment and the partner seemed genuinely puzzled that I’d screwed up.
In Martha news…
Martha has this habit of going bonkers when I come home at night – not because she’s excited to see me and not because she’s jonesing for a trip outside. Rather, mommy coming home means Chow Time!
I don’t know about you, but I like to decompress and have a few moments after a day of work. Martha does not comply. From the moment I walk through the door she’s racing after me, nudging her nose into my thigh, hopping up and down.
Yesterday I accidentally fed her in the morning and I noticed that later in the evening, she didn’t seem to notice when her normal dinner time rolled around. Hmmmm. This morning I scooped her a big bowl of kibble and hoped for the best.
This afternoon I got home and guess what, the amount of food has nothing to do with it. Walking through the door after work is akin to Pavlov ringing the bell. I fed her and allowed my angst to subside by taking her on a long walk afterwards. Halfway through our walk there’s a park where a group of guys play soccer. It’s hard to stay irritated when you’ve got sweaty boys chasing a ball in your line of view.
Tomorrow I’ll have to cruise on an assignment with a deadline before I head off to out-of-office appointments. Stress. The deadline assignment has kind of put me on edge. You see, I’m doing something that I think the partner thinks I’ve been taught how to do – but I have no clue. Never seen this stuff before. And I don’t want to admit to not knowing because I don’t want him to give me fewer assignments OR think I’m an idiot. At the same time, I got my first returned piece of work today in relation to the assignment and the partner seemed genuinely puzzled that I’d screwed up.
In Martha news…
Martha has this habit of going bonkers when I come home at night – not because she’s excited to see me and not because she’s jonesing for a trip outside. Rather, mommy coming home means Chow Time!
I don’t know about you, but I like to decompress and have a few moments after a day of work. Martha does not comply. From the moment I walk through the door she’s racing after me, nudging her nose into my thigh, hopping up and down.
Yesterday I accidentally fed her in the morning and I noticed that later in the evening, she didn’t seem to notice when her normal dinner time rolled around. Hmmmm. This morning I scooped her a big bowl of kibble and hoped for the best.
This afternoon I got home and guess what, the amount of food has nothing to do with it. Walking through the door after work is akin to Pavlov ringing the bell. I fed her and allowed my angst to subside by taking her on a long walk afterwards. Halfway through our walk there’s a park where a group of guys play soccer. It’s hard to stay irritated when you’ve got sweaty boys chasing a ball in your line of view.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
It's Sunday night...
...so of course I'm depressed - because tomorrow is Monday.
It's really strange in that I like my job, but so many other aspects just suck the life out of me:
1. What weirdo came up with this whole 8-5 concept? What's the rationale? My productivity comes in spurts. Sometimes it occurs from 9am - 1:30pm. Other times it starts at 10 pm. Doing work during a 'productive streak' allows me to complete work/study/whatever in about half the time. Why can't I just be given deadlines and work on my own time? I don't get it. Being stuck in one place doing one thing for 10 hours a day is mentally draining. I come home and collapse on my bed, but don't go to sleep because the sooner I do the sooner I have to wake up and do it again the next day.
2. Along the same lines...why do people go to lunch at noon? Just because it falls in the middle of the day? Is that it? Around noon we should all get up and walk away for an hour? So weird! Lunch has got to be the biggest productivity killer of the day. Inevitably, I'm jamming away on something when someone summons me away from my desk for lunch. An hour and a half later I'm back at my desk trying to remember where I was and regain my momentum when what I really want is to sleep off all of the starch and fat and sugar circulating through my veins. It's worse when I know I'm going to lunch. I don't want to start something knowing that I'll be leaving so I only get about half of the work done before lunch that I should. Then I return craving siesta and unable to do anything. Personally, I think we should toss lunch out of the equation. I eat a cup of yogurt at 10 am and that keeps me going until 3:30 when I nibble on some crackers. I get twice as much work done and don't get nearly as tired.
3. Will someone please tell me the motivation behind locking a person in a room with white walls for eight hours? I suppose the idea is to have no distractions, but some of us are more productive when stimulated. Why don't we decorate offices to look like baby nurseries with big shapes and bright colors? As it stands right now, the only thing my office evironment inspires me to do during the day is run to the kitchen area and cut myself with the plastic utensils.
4. I always wonder if people think I'm a slacker because I get up so much to smoke. Oddly, this habit actually makes me more productive. When I take my smoke break, I get up and move my legs. I stop to think about the work I'm doing. I go outside and feel invigorated by the gust of vitamin A and natural sunlight. I talk to random homeless people. My little ten minute breaks send me back inside feeling stimulated, motivated, and ready to get some stuff done. (Of course, it could just be the nicotine jolt.) And - since I don't go to lunch, I'm not sucking away any more company time than the next person - but as this world operates on a theory of perception rather than production - I figure someone somewhere is knocking me for this.
5. Billable hours - Let me get this straight; the longer it takes me to do something, the more we get paid?
I talked to my dad about this the other day and his whole response was that my generation has no work ethic. No work ethic, my tushy. My generation busts their butt and works longer hours than the baby boomers ever did; we just would like the opportunity to do so more efficiently. Also, my generation doesn't worship the almighty dollar the way my parents' group did. Used to be, if a guy worked late every night he was making a sacrifice for his family. In my generation, we call that guy an asshole. That's the guy who thinks it's more important to make an extra 20k a year than to see his kids' recitals, play catch, or help out around the house. My generation would rather buy generic toothpaste, drive a used Toy*ota, and save a little extra a month than be able to buy everything in a store/showroom/restaurant.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wind down my weekend with a little viewing of Office Space.
It's really strange in that I like my job, but so many other aspects just suck the life out of me:
1. What weirdo came up with this whole 8-5 concept? What's the rationale? My productivity comes in spurts. Sometimes it occurs from 9am - 1:30pm. Other times it starts at 10 pm. Doing work during a 'productive streak' allows me to complete work/study/whatever in about half the time. Why can't I just be given deadlines and work on my own time? I don't get it. Being stuck in one place doing one thing for 10 hours a day is mentally draining. I come home and collapse on my bed, but don't go to sleep because the sooner I do the sooner I have to wake up and do it again the next day.
2. Along the same lines...why do people go to lunch at noon? Just because it falls in the middle of the day? Is that it? Around noon we should all get up and walk away for an hour? So weird! Lunch has got to be the biggest productivity killer of the day. Inevitably, I'm jamming away on something when someone summons me away from my desk for lunch. An hour and a half later I'm back at my desk trying to remember where I was and regain my momentum when what I really want is to sleep off all of the starch and fat and sugar circulating through my veins. It's worse when I know I'm going to lunch. I don't want to start something knowing that I'll be leaving so I only get about half of the work done before lunch that I should. Then I return craving siesta and unable to do anything. Personally, I think we should toss lunch out of the equation. I eat a cup of yogurt at 10 am and that keeps me going until 3:30 when I nibble on some crackers. I get twice as much work done and don't get nearly as tired.
3. Will someone please tell me the motivation behind locking a person in a room with white walls for eight hours? I suppose the idea is to have no distractions, but some of us are more productive when stimulated. Why don't we decorate offices to look like baby nurseries with big shapes and bright colors? As it stands right now, the only thing my office evironment inspires me to do during the day is run to the kitchen area and cut myself with the plastic utensils.
4. I always wonder if people think I'm a slacker because I get up so much to smoke. Oddly, this habit actually makes me more productive. When I take my smoke break, I get up and move my legs. I stop to think about the work I'm doing. I go outside and feel invigorated by the gust of vitamin A and natural sunlight. I talk to random homeless people. My little ten minute breaks send me back inside feeling stimulated, motivated, and ready to get some stuff done. (Of course, it could just be the nicotine jolt.) And - since I don't go to lunch, I'm not sucking away any more company time than the next person - but as this world operates on a theory of perception rather than production - I figure someone somewhere is knocking me for this.
5. Billable hours - Let me get this straight; the longer it takes me to do something, the more we get paid?
I talked to my dad about this the other day and his whole response was that my generation has no work ethic. No work ethic, my tushy. My generation busts their butt and works longer hours than the baby boomers ever did; we just would like the opportunity to do so more efficiently. Also, my generation doesn't worship the almighty dollar the way my parents' group did. Used to be, if a guy worked late every night he was making a sacrifice for his family. In my generation, we call that guy an asshole. That's the guy who thinks it's more important to make an extra 20k a year than to see his kids' recitals, play catch, or help out around the house. My generation would rather buy generic toothpaste, drive a used Toy*ota, and save a little extra a month than be able to buy everything in a store/showroom/restaurant.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wind down my weekend with a little viewing of Office Space.
Oh, I hate this...
Martha is trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what it is...
She's been fed.
She's been out.
She's been bathed.
But she keeps coming up to me to do the nose nudge and sit, followed by a small whimper.
Augh!
She's been fed.
She's been out.
She's been bathed.
But she keeps coming up to me to do the nose nudge and sit, followed by a small whimper.
Augh!
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Let's go to Mexico...
Schaeffer's got neat pictures up of a trip to Mexico, including a pic of his daughter's first legal drink which appears to be a Pacifico beer. Nice call, Lydia. I'm a Modelo girl myself, but you can't go wrong with Pacifico.
Check them out if you need some whimsy or if, like me, you dream of living in a place where you'd be normal size at a height of 5'1".
Me gusta.
PS - you need to click the continuation link to see all of the shots.
Check them out if you need some whimsy or if, like me, you dream of living in a place where you'd be normal size at a height of 5'1".
Me gusta.
PS - you need to click the continuation link to see all of the shots.
What does your dog look like...
They say dogs resemble their owners in many ways. For the record, Martha looks like a miniature pitbull. I was just walking her around the neighborhood when I ran into one of the bartenders from my local bar walking his dog. Because of an event a few months ago, he’s always awkward around me.
You see, he gave me his number and I never called him, but here’s the deal.
First of all, on the night he proffered the digits, he gave Wine-Time-Girl two free drinks. Ana got nada. Part of me figured that he realized he didn’t have a chance with WTG so he just decided to go for the “less pretty” one.
Second, after WTG and I left the bar, the late-evening got a little out of hand. When I woke up the next morning and pulled the guy’s number out of my purse, I was more concerned with prior events than dialing his digits.
Third, the very next week another boy asked me out after we’d spent an evening drinking vodka, attending a female drag show, and talking in the rain until three in the morning. I had to let that drama run its course before I could call anyone else.
(OK, so maybe part of the reason that the blog is fiction is not because I exaggerate, but rather because I tone it down. Everything thus far is true.)
Anyway, I never called him – and he’s been weird ever since – and you know what, it’s not fair! He works at MY bar. Like I’m going to switch and go somewhere else. I can walk there for crying out loud. But yes, I’ve been feeling kinda sorta bad about it – until today when I ran into him and his dog. And while we chatted awkwardly, but amicably all I could think was, “Ohmygod. I almost called a guy who owns a poodle.”
You see, he gave me his number and I never called him, but here’s the deal.
First of all, on the night he proffered the digits, he gave Wine-Time-Girl two free drinks. Ana got nada. Part of me figured that he realized he didn’t have a chance with WTG so he just decided to go for the “less pretty” one.
Second, after WTG and I left the bar, the late-evening got a little out of hand. When I woke up the next morning and pulled the guy’s number out of my purse, I was more concerned with prior events than dialing his digits.
Third, the very next week another boy asked me out after we’d spent an evening drinking vodka, attending a female drag show, and talking in the rain until three in the morning. I had to let that drama run its course before I could call anyone else.
(OK, so maybe part of the reason that the blog is fiction is not because I exaggerate, but rather because I tone it down. Everything thus far is true.)
Anyway, I never called him – and he’s been weird ever since – and you know what, it’s not fair! He works at MY bar. Like I’m going to switch and go somewhere else. I can walk there for crying out loud. But yes, I’ve been feeling kinda sorta bad about it – until today when I ran into him and his dog. And while we chatted awkwardly, but amicably all I could think was, “Ohmygod. I almost called a guy who owns a poodle.”
Initiation?
Yesterday, I got this email from a summer associate in another office of my firm:
Hi Ana - this is your fellow summer associate Jennifer. I look forward to meeting you.
Hey, just out of curiosity, are the attorneys in [Big City] as weird as they are in [other city]?
One of the partners already asked if I would wash his car!
Call me later to chat. Thanks.
WTF? Are you serious? I just sat there thinking, "How in the heck do I respond to this?!?"
And, of course, paranoid person that I am, I wondered, "Is this another test?"
Do I reply? What do I say? Do I tell someone about this?
After thirty minutes I sent an innocuous reply saying something to the effect that I was a complete fruitcake and as such, I wasn't a particularly good judge of other people's weirdness. (This is true - it's the 'normal' people who really freak me out.) I also told her to brush up on her car washing skills.
So today, I'm sitting in my supervising partner's office taking copious notes on a motion I need to file when he says, "And one more thing.."
"Yeah," I said and looked up from my notes.
"Before you do that, can you wash my car?" he said.
Ana makes that 'I've been played' face.
"You put her up to it?!?!" I asked.
"Actually, I was in the other office yesterday. I typed the email myself," he said grinning.
"You punk!"
"You didn't actually believe someone would write that?" he asked.
"I had no idea. You wouldn't believe what kids do these days. You should see some of the stuff law students blog," I replied.
"You summer law clerks," he laughed, "you're all so young, naive, and idealistic."
"And I intend to stay that way, thank you very much!" I said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go wash your car. Who should I bill?"
Hi Ana - this is your fellow summer associate Jennifer. I look forward to meeting you.
Hey, just out of curiosity, are the attorneys in [Big City] as weird as they are in [other city]?
One of the partners already asked if I would wash his car!
Call me later to chat. Thanks.
WTF? Are you serious? I just sat there thinking, "How in the heck do I respond to this?!?"
And, of course, paranoid person that I am, I wondered, "Is this another test?"
Do I reply? What do I say? Do I tell someone about this?
After thirty minutes I sent an innocuous reply saying something to the effect that I was a complete fruitcake and as such, I wasn't a particularly good judge of other people's weirdness. (This is true - it's the 'normal' people who really freak me out.) I also told her to brush up on her car washing skills.
So today, I'm sitting in my supervising partner's office taking copious notes on a motion I need to file when he says, "And one more thing.."
"Yeah," I said and looked up from my notes.
"Before you do that, can you wash my car?" he said.
Ana makes that 'I've been played' face.
"You put her up to it?!?!" I asked.
"Actually, I was in the other office yesterday. I typed the email myself," he said grinning.
"You punk!"
"You didn't actually believe someone would write that?" he asked.
"I had no idea. You wouldn't believe what kids do these days. You should see some of the stuff law students blog," I replied.
"You summer law clerks," he laughed, "you're all so young, naive, and idealistic."
"And I intend to stay that way, thank you very much!" I said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go wash your car. Who should I bill?"
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
More Ridiculous Pictures...
Yeah, my brain's still fried and I'm more inclined to pluck errant hairs on my body than to write anything so here's another pic. Ana's author has pretty much always lived in her own fantasy world and as a child, she created a wardrobe to match. I was wearing this gem around the house one day when my mom snapped the photo. I put the outfit together myself and was pretty damn proud of it at the time. Who am I kidding? I still think that outfit rocks today.
I've got on tap shoes because I wanted something shiny, flashy, and patent. Next came the red tights because red tights - also flashy. A rainbow leotard tops off the superheroine ensemble. Unbelievably, I did not own a cape, but when has the lacking of an essential item ever slowed me down? I just took a pair of red pants and pinned them around my neck. Bad ass. I don't remember the purpose of the handkerchief, but I'm pretty certain it was something brilliant.
I've got on tap shoes because I wanted something shiny, flashy, and patent. Next came the red tights because red tights - also flashy. A rainbow leotard tops off the superheroine ensemble. Unbelievably, I did not own a cape, but when has the lacking of an essential item ever slowed me down? I just took a pair of red pants and pinned them around my neck. Bad ass. I don't remember the purpose of the handkerchief, but I'm pretty certain it was something brilliant.
Monday, June 04, 2007
And Wine-Time Girl?
While not everything on this blog is factual, all of the characters are based on real people. Of all my friends, the gal behind Wine-Time Girl is probably the most understanding when she reads statements that she never said by someone who resembles her personality. My friend behind Alex often makes 'corrections' to conversations and events on the blog in the comments. More than one love interest has been offended by things Ana has said about their character and/or their portrayal - silly boys - but Wine-Time-Girl's inspiration is always a champ. The other day I took a picture of her and asked if I could post it on the blog.
Here it is...
Sorry for the teases. I think my creative energy has been sapped by work. It appears the field trips have ended and my days are now devoted to office work. Yay, research! Yay, memos! Where's my highlighter? I need to poke my eye out with it! Where's my BlueBook? I want to inflict paper cuts!
Here it is...
Sorry for the teases. I think my creative energy has been sapped by work. It appears the field trips have ended and my days are now devoted to office work. Yay, research! Yay, memos! Where's my highlighter? I need to poke my eye out with it! Where's my BlueBook? I want to inflict paper cuts!
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Cute Dog...
Every so often when I'm feeling lonely or had a little too much wine I will let Martha on the bed with me. As a result of this, whenever I stop to lie down on the bed she gets excited, runs to the edge of the bed, and sits patiently with her tail wagging madly as if to say, "Let me up! I want to snuggle! I want to snuggle!"
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