Tomorrow is my last final of my first semester. I still have yet to figure out if I'm coming to DC for New Years. Oh well. In the meantime: Jamie Lynne Spears is pregnant.
And of course the media will glorify her and her 16-year-old pregnancy.
I only thank God that my 14 year old sister doesn't watch Nickelodeon. Or she would think it would be cool to get pregnant. Come on people, teach your children about safe sex for the love of God.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
The latest and greatest.
Law school finals tend to make people go crazy in ways unimaginable. For example, groups of friends break up over the Erie Doctrine explanation, couples (in law school and not in law school) start to fight excessively, and everyone looks like you shot their puppy in the face. For me, i've effectively thrown myself into studying because it seemed a lot more fun than actually dealing with life and real world. The nervous breakdowns only arise whenever I see my fellow overachieving classmates saunter into my study room with their color-coded, bound outlines. Ok, really? Obviously you would have rather click "font color" than review the meaning of consideration. And where the hell are you getting the cash for BINDING YOUR 40 PAGE OUTLINE?!
Two days until my first final and I can say that I've studied in every room on campus since the beginning of the year. As reading/study period starts to wane, the level of panic seems to increase and all I can think about is: My plane ticket to DC is going to be very, very expensive for New Year's.
Yes folks, I have not purchased a flight that will take me across the country to celebrate the most disappointing holiday of the year. Therein lies where I've ignored all my problems. First of all, on its face, it does not appear as if anyone has a place for me to stay. Second of all, friends that I want to see may or may not be in town. And lastly, I don't want stir up bad memories and feelings to inundate me before I return for spring semester.
So, question of the day: Should I come to Washington, D.C. to ring in 2008? Or maybe I should just stay in my parents house, pop a sleeping pill and thank God that 2007 is over and be grateful that I got through it alive.
Two days until my first final and I can say that I've studied in every room on campus since the beginning of the year. As reading/study period starts to wane, the level of panic seems to increase and all I can think about is: My plane ticket to DC is going to be very, very expensive for New Year's.
Yes folks, I have not purchased a flight that will take me across the country to celebrate the most disappointing holiday of the year. Therein lies where I've ignored all my problems. First of all, on its face, it does not appear as if anyone has a place for me to stay. Second of all, friends that I want to see may or may not be in town. And lastly, I don't want stir up bad memories and feelings to inundate me before I return for spring semester.
So, question of the day: Should I come to Washington, D.C. to ring in 2008? Or maybe I should just stay in my parents house, pop a sleeping pill and thank God that 2007 is over and be grateful that I got through it alive.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
"Sometimes I look at her and wonder 'why is she even here'?"
Law school invites many types of people, mostly competitve and usually without direction in life. I find that, usually, these people are the creme de la creme of obnoxiousness. While you find few people in school who don't vex or annoy you, I know that usually, I want to throttle some, if not a majority, of my classmates.
Cliques are especially interesting to observe. For example, there are a group of girls who are in my CCR fellowship program. I was going to call them the Blonde Brigade but not all are blonde, so let's call them the Moral Patrol or even better, God's Property (GP). At first, I despised these girls and not because they were super Christian (in fact, that makes me actually kind of like them so long as they are not hypocritical about it), but because they were associated with one girl who has been nothing but rude and superior since I met her. For all intents and purposes we'll name her Princess.
Princess is a special type of law student. She apparently has a modicum of intelligence, or so I'm told by her friends because she's able to speed read through our cases. I have yet to figure out if this proves to be true. My favorite part about her is the fact that she speaks down upon people with such a Napolean complex and I find her to be completely average as a human being. Newsflash Princess: Just because you live in the Hills and wear Chanel earrings, it doesn't mean you're going to do well in law school or that you're even better, generally, than your fellow colleagues. For the love of God, you're fat and you date a man 20 years your senior. That's disgusting. (Note: she's 22 and boyfriend is 43. Yes, I am totally judging her.)
I believe that Princess has a problem speaking to people respectfully. Her tone and mannerisms are completely out of line and if I wasn't afraid of damaging my legal career I would probably bitchslap her all the way back to the second grade - because that's how this heifer acts. Anyway, it would be interesting to see how Princess will do. The competitive person in me hopes she'll fail out, however, that same competitive person in me will hope that she will be a worthy adversary behind her expensive clothes, average mind and alleged holier-than-thou ways. Either way, it'll be fun to rile her up insidiously (or not so insidiously when she riles me up). I mean, hey, I have to entertain myself for at least two and a half more years at this school, right?
Cliques are especially interesting to observe. For example, there are a group of girls who are in my CCR fellowship program. I was going to call them the Blonde Brigade but not all are blonde, so let's call them the Moral Patrol or even better, God's Property (GP). At first, I despised these girls and not because they were super Christian (in fact, that makes me actually kind of like them so long as they are not hypocritical about it), but because they were associated with one girl who has been nothing but rude and superior since I met her. For all intents and purposes we'll name her Princess.
Princess is a special type of law student. She apparently has a modicum of intelligence, or so I'm told by her friends because she's able to speed read through our cases. I have yet to figure out if this proves to be true. My favorite part about her is the fact that she speaks down upon people with such a Napolean complex and I find her to be completely average as a human being. Newsflash Princess: Just because you live in the Hills and wear Chanel earrings, it doesn't mean you're going to do well in law school or that you're even better, generally, than your fellow colleagues. For the love of God, you're fat and you date a man 20 years your senior. That's disgusting. (Note: she's 22 and boyfriend is 43. Yes, I am totally judging her.)
I believe that Princess has a problem speaking to people respectfully. Her tone and mannerisms are completely out of line and if I wasn't afraid of damaging my legal career I would probably bitchslap her all the way back to the second grade - because that's how this heifer acts. Anyway, it would be interesting to see how Princess will do. The competitive person in me hopes she'll fail out, however, that same competitive person in me will hope that she will be a worthy adversary behind her expensive clothes, average mind and alleged holier-than-thou ways. Either way, it'll be fun to rile her up insidiously (or not so insidiously when she riles me up). I mean, hey, I have to entertain myself for at least two and a half more years at this school, right?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Threes.
Yesterday may or may not have been one of the worst days I've experienced in my life. I'm a believer in threes. Good, bad, ugly things that happen in threes.
1.) Someone apparently wanted to steal my money and credit cards. I was in the library all weekend and somehow, it was ok to just take all of it out of my wallet when I left it unattended. Nice.
2.) The school heard about the skeevy 2L's bar review assault on me and want to hold disciplinary actions against him. So on top of my first semester, I have to go in, explain how i'm petrified of being on campus because I don't want to run into a boy that bit my ear, grabbed my tit and pinned me against the bar while drinking with my fellow colleagues.
oh wait but it gets better.
3.) My very wonderful and loving second family in Orlando has been hit with such awfulness that I can't even bring myself to say it or even think about it. My parents used to double date with their best friends, Patrick and Leeza who subsequently all got married at the same time. They, like my parents, produced 3 children: Myk, 24, Abigail, 21, Raymond, 16. [Ages look familiar?] It was always our parents dream to all end up together (well minus Emily and Abby) - Who wouldnt want their children to marry their best friends children? And Myk and I were always very close. (Granted, it would never had happen - Myk and I were never attracted to each other). Unfortunately, and sadly, that would never happen as Myk died a few days ago. I won't speculate or even explain what happened but know this: my devastation is insurmountable and I grieve. I grieve for Pat, Leeza, Abby and Ray. I grieve for my 23 years of memories with Myk. I pray that he's in a better place.
And I hope, no matter what, that he finally rests in peace.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.
1.) Someone apparently wanted to steal my money and credit cards. I was in the library all weekend and somehow, it was ok to just take all of it out of my wallet when I left it unattended. Nice.
2.) The school heard about the skeevy 2L's bar review assault on me and want to hold disciplinary actions against him. So on top of my first semester, I have to go in, explain how i'm petrified of being on campus because I don't want to run into a boy that bit my ear, grabbed my tit and pinned me against the bar while drinking with my fellow colleagues.
oh wait but it gets better.
3.) My very wonderful and loving second family in Orlando has been hit with such awfulness that I can't even bring myself to say it or even think about it. My parents used to double date with their best friends, Patrick and Leeza who subsequently all got married at the same time. They, like my parents, produced 3 children: Myk, 24, Abigail, 21, Raymond, 16. [Ages look familiar?] It was always our parents dream to all end up together (well minus Emily and Abby) - Who wouldnt want their children to marry their best friends children? And Myk and I were always very close. (Granted, it would never had happen - Myk and I were never attracted to each other). Unfortunately, and sadly, that would never happen as Myk died a few days ago. I won't speculate or even explain what happened but know this: my devastation is insurmountable and I grieve. I grieve for Pat, Leeza, Abby and Ray. I grieve for my 23 years of memories with Myk. I pray that he's in a better place.
And I hope, no matter what, that he finally rests in peace.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Friday, October 5, 2007
"Ow. Why is your elbow in my sternum?"
At our second bar review (happy hour... er, 5 hours) I happened to be accosted by numerous types of sketchy men who also (sadly) happened to be fellow schoolmates. This is why it is not ok to humor male strangers who happen to be hitting on you.
I was always told that when we go out, I was not the nice one. If someone came up to hit on us group of girls, I would be agitated and annoyed and would proceed to blatantly ignore or refute any advances. Last night, since I was in the company of my colleagues, I decided "Hey, shed the bitch face." Bad idea.
Why you ask?
Because then you leave open 2L's who TRY TO BITE YOUR EAR OFF (literally) when you're trying to have a normal conversation. I think my favorite line was "if you don't want me in public, i can find someplace private. Like the bathroom."
Really? REALLY? I may have "1L" written all over my face but contrary to popular belief, I am not wearing a sign that says "stupid" or, even better, "have your way with me."
Imagine this: I'm trying to talk to this 2L and we're against the wall opposite the bar. Every single time he steps in closer, I take a step back. Next thing I know, my beer that was resting on the ledge about 10 feet away and I'm backed up against the wall. What was I supposed to do? I was trying to be nice and next thing I know this bastard has got me pinned against the wall telling him to get off of me. You know he knew too, especially since he kept saying "Ow, you're hurting me, can you move your elbow? Why is it in my sternum?" Me: "Because I want you to get off of me now!" Finally, two friends realized what was going on and intervened but not after his lack of trying to get me to go with him to the bathroom, then a corner of the bar, then finally, his place. Ew. Ew. Ew. Worst part? He's in my children's advocacy certification program. I don't know which frightens me more, the fact that the next 2 years we'll be in the same program or the fact that he's going to be actively working with children.
Moral of the story? Sometimes it's just easier to be branded the bitch than to fight off a creepy upperclassman who still continues to stalk you after you elbow him in the sternum and knee him in the groin.
I was always told that when we go out, I was not the nice one. If someone came up to hit on us group of girls, I would be agitated and annoyed and would proceed to blatantly ignore or refute any advances. Last night, since I was in the company of my colleagues, I decided "Hey, shed the bitch face." Bad idea.
Why you ask?
Because then you leave open 2L's who TRY TO BITE YOUR EAR OFF (literally) when you're trying to have a normal conversation. I think my favorite line was "if you don't want me in public, i can find someplace private. Like the bathroom."
Really? REALLY? I may have "1L" written all over my face but contrary to popular belief, I am not wearing a sign that says "stupid" or, even better, "have your way with me."
Imagine this: I'm trying to talk to this 2L and we're against the wall opposite the bar. Every single time he steps in closer, I take a step back. Next thing I know, my beer that was resting on the ledge about 10 feet away and I'm backed up against the wall. What was I supposed to do? I was trying to be nice and next thing I know this bastard has got me pinned against the wall telling him to get off of me. You know he knew too, especially since he kept saying "Ow, you're hurting me, can you move your elbow? Why is it in my sternum?" Me: "Because I want you to get off of me now!" Finally, two friends realized what was going on and intervened but not after his lack of trying to get me to go with him to the bathroom, then a corner of the bar, then finally, his place. Ew. Ew. Ew. Worst part? He's in my children's advocacy certification program. I don't know which frightens me more, the fact that the next 2 years we'll be in the same program or the fact that he's going to be actively working with children.
Moral of the story? Sometimes it's just easier to be branded the bitch than to fight off a creepy upperclassman who still continues to stalk you after you elbow him in the sternum and knee him in the groin.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Babble
A few random thoughts:
1.) Apparently V wanted to write a rebuttal to my argument on dating in law school. While I see his point that he would like to date in law school because its actually a good time to do so, I think he missed my argument that life as a 1L should not be limited to just dating your classmates.
2.) I have a sick obsession with Vanessa Hudgens' debacle. I'm pretty partial towards High School Musical 1 and 2 and its stars. I think it's pretty sad that someone is pretty much terrorizing her career. And I seem to be reading a rumor that she was 16/17 when she took those pictures. Read: just because she's a celebrity - it does not excuse her right to protection as a minor; publishing those pictures can still be considered child pornography.
My real bone to pick with Vanessa (and with Vanessa Minnillo) is the fact that I love how celebrities of Filipino descent try to hide it by saying "i'm a mix of all these random ethnic groups: [fill in every minute blood line in here]" and then you see them with their parents and it screams "FILIPINO". Like seriously? Saying you're not Filipino (or half Filipino) doesn't change it. Get over it. If anything, you should be proud: there's so much fantastic history in the Philippines. A female president, martial law, rice plantations, PEOPLE POWER. And if it's image you're so concerned with, where else are you going to find women that look like Filipinos. The exoticism is astounding. Some have small frames. Others have boobs that people in Hollywood would kill for. Some are light skinned. Other are dark. Some look Asiatic, others look Hispanic. The mixture is unique and should not be shunned.
Which leads me to point 3 of the night:
3.) Filipinos are ridiculous. And I mean that in every sense of the word. For example, where else can you find crazy huge families that tell you that you're fat but yet try to stuff you with food. Conversely, where else can you find a people power so deeply rooted in our being and history that they DARE write a petition against ABC for the off color remark that the character of Susan Meyer made in the premiere of "Desperate Housewives." Of course young celebrities like Hudgens and Minnilo are hesitant to discuss their ethnic backgrounds. The implication of going to a "med school in the Philippines" shows that Filipinos educated in their native country of the Philippines are less valuable than their American counterparts. The further implication shows that this culture is still primitive and should not be regarded equally with the rest of America.
The context and content of the quote is only shocking because the target audience did not expect a remark like that to be cleared through the network given the recent history on the set of Greys Anatomy. It has been brought up that perhaps a politically incorrect remark like this is a slap in the face because the viewer did not expect it and the type of viewer has a different humor than one who watches "Family Guy" or the "Simpsons." Personally, I reacted a couple seconds too late and didn't know if I should laugh or just move on. Then I realized indignantly that my father went to medical school in the Philippines and he is a damn good doctor. Also, now the writers of the show have proven (much so against my arguments and protests on this issue) my father's point exactly, "As an immigrant, you have to work 200% to be equal with your American counterparts." And thanks to ABC, my father seems to painfully and begrudgingly (on my part) be right.
1.) Apparently V wanted to write a rebuttal to my argument on dating in law school. While I see his point that he would like to date in law school because its actually a good time to do so, I think he missed my argument that life as a 1L should not be limited to just dating your classmates.
2.) I have a sick obsession with Vanessa Hudgens' debacle. I'm pretty partial towards High School Musical 1 and 2 and its stars. I think it's pretty sad that someone is pretty much terrorizing her career. And I seem to be reading a rumor that she was 16/17 when she took those pictures. Read: just because she's a celebrity - it does not excuse her right to protection as a minor; publishing those pictures can still be considered child pornography.
My real bone to pick with Vanessa (and with Vanessa Minnillo) is the fact that I love how celebrities of Filipino descent try to hide it by saying "i'm a mix of all these random ethnic groups: [fill in every minute blood line in here]" and then you see them with their parents and it screams "FILIPINO". Like seriously? Saying you're not Filipino (or half Filipino) doesn't change it. Get over it. If anything, you should be proud: there's so much fantastic history in the Philippines. A female president, martial law, rice plantations, PEOPLE POWER. And if it's image you're so concerned with, where else are you going to find women that look like Filipinos. The exoticism is astounding. Some have small frames. Others have boobs that people in Hollywood would kill for. Some are light skinned. Other are dark. Some look Asiatic, others look Hispanic. The mixture is unique and should not be shunned.
Which leads me to point 3 of the night:
3.) Filipinos are ridiculous. And I mean that in every sense of the word. For example, where else can you find crazy huge families that tell you that you're fat but yet try to stuff you with food. Conversely, where else can you find a people power so deeply rooted in our being and history that they DARE write a petition against ABC for the off color remark that the character of Susan Meyer made in the premiere of "Desperate Housewives." Of course young celebrities like Hudgens and Minnilo are hesitant to discuss their ethnic backgrounds. The implication of going to a "med school in the Philippines" shows that Filipinos educated in their native country of the Philippines are less valuable than their American counterparts. The further implication shows that this culture is still primitive and should not be regarded equally with the rest of America.
The context and content of the quote is only shocking because the target audience did not expect a remark like that to be cleared through the network given the recent history on the set of Greys Anatomy. It has been brought up that perhaps a politically incorrect remark like this is a slap in the face because the viewer did not expect it and the type of viewer has a different humor than one who watches "Family Guy" or the "Simpsons." Personally, I reacted a couple seconds too late and didn't know if I should laugh or just move on. Then I realized indignantly that my father went to medical school in the Philippines and he is a damn good doctor. Also, now the writers of the show have proven (much so against my arguments and protests on this issue) my father's point exactly, "As an immigrant, you have to work 200% to be equal with your American counterparts." And thanks to ABC, my father seems to painfully and begrudgingly (on my part) be right.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Dreaming with a Broken Heart
Some people in this life have been so lucky to find love. Similarily, people have been so lucky to have their hearts broken. First loves and broken hearts change a person. For the better or worse, there is a change. Those who know what I'm saying here, agree.
The hardest part is letting it go. You can't keep chasing an illusion of what once was. And prolonging the inevitable just makes that feeling of brokenheartedness that much more painful. Rip the band aid off. Internalize the anger and pain and move on.
And as sure as the day is long, don't look back. Because I can assure you, he's not chasing you.
In fact, I can bet money that he hasn't even realized that you stopped chasing him.
The hardest part is letting it go. You can't keep chasing an illusion of what once was. And prolonging the inevitable just makes that feeling of brokenheartedness that much more painful. Rip the band aid off. Internalize the anger and pain and move on.
And as sure as the day is long, don't look back. Because I can assure you, he's not chasing you.
In fact, I can bet money that he hasn't even realized that you stopped chasing him.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Homesick
When people say they're homesick, are they sick for their home or the illusion of what their home used to be?
I have a feeling that I just can't shake. It's not happiness, but its not quite misery. And don't tell me its that 1L fear of God bullsh*t. I know i'm not supposed to know everything there is to know about law school. Lord knows veteran attorneys don't know how to survive: unless you count advice on switching off between coffee and alochol as "survival." Hm...
Anyway, when I first arrived in Costa Mesa, I found myself missing DC more than I would like to disclose. Then I made friends, and now, I just long for a night where I can leave my apartment, walk up the dreaded hill in Courthouse and hang out at Ragtime until I got bored. But can we say I'm homesick? Can we chalk it up to lonliness? Or perhaps I'm just so stressed with school that I just want things to be the way they were?
To be honest, I have no idea. I just know that everytime I want to talk to someone familiar, its late at night pacific standard time, so you know its late where you folks are at. I miss going out on the weekends, playing kickball, impromptu happy hours, Football at Summers, sitting outside the Arlington Courthouse smoking/conversing, making money, Metro and most importantly, all of you. I miss the familiarity of DC life and I want it back.
I may have been born and raised in the Bay Area, but I would give anything right now to come home.
I have a feeling that I just can't shake. It's not happiness, but its not quite misery. And don't tell me its that 1L fear of God bullsh*t. I know i'm not supposed to know everything there is to know about law school. Lord knows veteran attorneys don't know how to survive: unless you count advice on switching off between coffee and alochol as "survival." Hm...
Anyway, when I first arrived in Costa Mesa, I found myself missing DC more than I would like to disclose. Then I made friends, and now, I just long for a night where I can leave my apartment, walk up the dreaded hill in Courthouse and hang out at Ragtime until I got bored. But can we say I'm homesick? Can we chalk it up to lonliness? Or perhaps I'm just so stressed with school that I just want things to be the way they were?
To be honest, I have no idea. I just know that everytime I want to talk to someone familiar, its late at night pacific standard time, so you know its late where you folks are at. I miss going out on the weekends, playing kickball, impromptu happy hours, Football at Summers, sitting outside the Arlington Courthouse smoking/conversing, making money, Metro and most importantly, all of you. I miss the familiarity of DC life and I want it back.
I may have been born and raised in the Bay Area, but I would give anything right now to come home.
Friday, September 7, 2007
L-Date
I was pretty fortunate to enter law school with an abundance of advice from people who had gone through the torture and survived to tell tales. Regardless, I was pretty shocked to realize that not ONLY did the amount of work sucked, but apparently higher education was synonymous with high school education.
Now, my parents - fearing for my education and inherently knowing how boy crazy I was - put me into an all girls Catholic high school. Life there was ridiculously drama free and comfortable. So, imagine my discomfort, when its the end of my third week of school (4th week if you count orientation) and my fellow colleagues mention how high school it is that my newfound group of friends are starting to "court" each other.
Yes, I said it. Court. Gross.
People, how many times do I have to tell you: Law school isn't your personal dating service. I am aware of those couples that have met and fell in love in law school and are married with a million children and more grandchildren and want to spend the rest of their lives together, blah blah blah. I don't know about you, but I went to law school to ... I don't know... some day become a lawyer. Not find my future husband. If I knew I was spending $150K on that, then I would have just hired my own personal male prostitute and called it a day.
Why I think dating your classmate is a bad idea:
1.) In my recent experience, people in my class are honestly starting to date. Not just "hook up" like the culture is back in undergrad. Like go on dates and call each other and other time consuming that budding couples do. Now I don't know about you, but WHERE are you finding the time for this? I barely have time to freaking write this blog entry. You must be a genius because I definitely don't understand what I'm studying and I have a feeling that taking the time to bat my eyelashes at the guy i'm hoping will asking me out will not help me understand the material any more than it would be to sleep with the book under my pillow.
2.) It has also been ingrained in me that in order to get a good job after graduation, you have to do well. Well, law school is competitive. For some ungodly reason, law schools grade on a curve and only allot a certain amount of A's, B's, C's etc. per year. Personally, I think it's a ploy to make you pay for a therapist after you get your first semester grades. Even so, you are COMPETING for the top grades in your class. That means, while you're playing footsies under the library desk, you fail to recognize that statistically one of you will be getting that coveted high grade of a "B" in Civil Procedure. Either you're looking at the end of the semester with some serious blinders or this truly is a brilliant ploy to sabatoge your potential significant other.
3.) $$$$. Like all new couples, you want to do things together. Like eat out, go to movies, perhaps take weekend trips and buy nice things for each other. I hope you realize that if you end up marrying your significant other that your relationship has officially gained interest in the past 3 years. I don't think the school accounted the aforementioned activities in "extra living expenses."
Disclaimer: I completely understand that most people in law school will become close thanks to the fact that law school is ostensibly a cult. I know that with my new group of friends we're always planning to do something together... after spending 9-5 classes together everyday. It's almost like we never get sick of each other. Scary, right? So, it's not out of the realm of possibility for two people of the opposite sex who happen to spend a lot of time together to find their way to each other. But I mean really? Must you subject others to your lovey dovey flirting during football? Lunch? I mean come on. I'm halfway through my sandwich before I give up eating because the goo goo eyes make me want to goo goo into your lunch bag.
Now, my parents - fearing for my education and inherently knowing how boy crazy I was - put me into an all girls Catholic high school. Life there was ridiculously drama free and comfortable. So, imagine my discomfort, when its the end of my third week of school (4th week if you count orientation) and my fellow colleagues mention how high school it is that my newfound group of friends are starting to "court" each other.
Yes, I said it. Court. Gross.
People, how many times do I have to tell you: Law school isn't your personal dating service. I am aware of those couples that have met and fell in love in law school and are married with a million children and more grandchildren and want to spend the rest of their lives together, blah blah blah. I don't know about you, but I went to law school to ... I don't know... some day become a lawyer. Not find my future husband. If I knew I was spending $150K on that, then I would have just hired my own personal male prostitute and called it a day.
Why I think dating your classmate is a bad idea:
1.) In my recent experience, people in my class are honestly starting to date. Not just "hook up" like the culture is back in undergrad. Like go on dates and call each other and other time consuming that budding couples do. Now I don't know about you, but WHERE are you finding the time for this? I barely have time to freaking write this blog entry. You must be a genius because I definitely don't understand what I'm studying and I have a feeling that taking the time to bat my eyelashes at the guy i'm hoping will asking me out will not help me understand the material any more than it would be to sleep with the book under my pillow.
2.) It has also been ingrained in me that in order to get a good job after graduation, you have to do well. Well, law school is competitive. For some ungodly reason, law schools grade on a curve and only allot a certain amount of A's, B's, C's etc. per year. Personally, I think it's a ploy to make you pay for a therapist after you get your first semester grades. Even so, you are COMPETING for the top grades in your class. That means, while you're playing footsies under the library desk, you fail to recognize that statistically one of you will be getting that coveted high grade of a "B" in Civil Procedure. Either you're looking at the end of the semester with some serious blinders or this truly is a brilliant ploy to sabatoge your potential significant other.
3.) $$$$. Like all new couples, you want to do things together. Like eat out, go to movies, perhaps take weekend trips and buy nice things for each other. I hope you realize that if you end up marrying your significant other that your relationship has officially gained interest in the past 3 years. I don't think the school accounted the aforementioned activities in "extra living expenses."
Disclaimer: I completely understand that most people in law school will become close thanks to the fact that law school is ostensibly a cult. I know that with my new group of friends we're always planning to do something together... after spending 9-5 classes together everyday. It's almost like we never get sick of each other. Scary, right? So, it's not out of the realm of possibility for two people of the opposite sex who happen to spend a lot of time together to find their way to each other. But I mean really? Must you subject others to your lovey dovey flirting during football? Lunch? I mean come on. I'm halfway through my sandwich before I give up eating because the goo goo eyes make me want to goo goo into your lunch bag.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Resistance is Futile.
I can't decide if the next 4 words are something to be proud of: I'm becoming "that girl".
Now, in this day and age (and of course in my judgmental mind), "that girl" means a lot of things. There's "that girl" in my class who uses a fake English accent to speak even though she was abroad for like a hot second. You're from California, lady, get over it. There's "that girl" who (still) gets on my nerves because I truly believe she was trying to hook up with everyone in our class. (You're still a whore.) There's "that girl" who acts like she's entitled to the best grades because she's the shotgunner. You know. The one who always has her hand up. God. Shut up already, not even the Professor will call on you.
Thankfully, I'm not (hopefully) becoming any of the above. It doesn't alleviate my fear of becoming that person who leaves the place she used to call home (DC) and moves somewhere new kicking and screaming only to become a completely acclimated clone of her surrounding people. Back in DC, simple things (haha) like politics and CNN and Happy Hour in Dupont Circle are what interested me. Meeting people on my kickball team who had dreams and ambitions and really cool jobs are what interested me. Making my ex roommate put on my make up because I was too lazy and horrible at it, was my way of "getting ready" to go out.
Now? I spend an hour getting ready for class. AN HOUR. Why? I don't know. It's sick and twisted. I spend even longer getting ready to go out. Jesus Christ, I spend time getting ready to go to the effing gym!
I'm still interested in politics but I haven't even picked up a newspaper since I've moved. Drinking in moderation has lost its appeal and now when I drink, it's to get d-r-u-n-k because I have so limited time to do so.
Instead i'm even more so obsessed with my body image (which, let me tell you, is GREAT for my self esteem) and I'd rather watch "the Hills" than CNN. And i'm starting to think that i'm experiencing the high school experience my public co-ed school counterparts experienced when I was in high school. Am I totally regressing to the age of 16? Is that possible considering that I didn't go to my local high school and was able to experience all women's education? Should I let it go and just bask in it? I mean is this my subconscious way of rewarding myself for reading 200 pages a week? Am I going to turn into a vapid valley girl?
All I ask is that the people of DC take pity on me when I come to visit. I'm trying to resist the urges to fully acclimate (mind you, I haven't gone surfing just yet - and really, everyone I know here surfs. No, really.) but if I come back to DC with blond hair and fake boobs, I will totally be judging myself.
And don't deny it, you will be too.
Now, in this day and age (and of course in my judgmental mind), "that girl" means a lot of things. There's "that girl" in my class who uses a fake English accent to speak even though she was abroad for like a hot second. You're from California, lady, get over it. There's "that girl" who (still) gets on my nerves because I truly believe she was trying to hook up with everyone in our class. (You're still a whore.) There's "that girl" who acts like she's entitled to the best grades because she's the shotgunner. You know. The one who always has her hand up. God. Shut up already, not even the Professor will call on you.
Thankfully, I'm not (hopefully) becoming any of the above. It doesn't alleviate my fear of becoming that person who leaves the place she used to call home (DC) and moves somewhere new kicking and screaming only to become a completely acclimated clone of her surrounding people. Back in DC, simple things (haha) like politics and CNN and Happy Hour in Dupont Circle are what interested me. Meeting people on my kickball team who had dreams and ambitions and really cool jobs are what interested me. Making my ex roommate put on my make up because I was too lazy and horrible at it, was my way of "getting ready" to go out.
Now? I spend an hour getting ready for class. AN HOUR. Why? I don't know. It's sick and twisted. I spend even longer getting ready to go out. Jesus Christ, I spend time getting ready to go to the effing gym!
I'm still interested in politics but I haven't even picked up a newspaper since I've moved. Drinking in moderation has lost its appeal and now when I drink, it's to get d-r-u-n-k because I have so limited time to do so.
Instead i'm even more so obsessed with my body image (which, let me tell you, is GREAT for my self esteem) and I'd rather watch "the Hills" than CNN. And i'm starting to think that i'm experiencing the high school experience my public co-ed school counterparts experienced when I was in high school. Am I totally regressing to the age of 16? Is that possible considering that I didn't go to my local high school and was able to experience all women's education? Should I let it go and just bask in it? I mean is this my subconscious way of rewarding myself for reading 200 pages a week? Am I going to turn into a vapid valley girl?
All I ask is that the people of DC take pity on me when I come to visit. I'm trying to resist the urges to fully acclimate (mind you, I haven't gone surfing just yet - and really, everyone I know here surfs. No, really.) but if I come back to DC with blond hair and fake boobs, I will totally be judging myself.
And don't deny it, you will be too.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Bite the hand that feeds you?
Because I didn't have cable hooked up for a long time, I found myself well acquainted with my roommate's entire collection of Sex and the City. In the era of Housewives, Greys and Bravo TV, I found it refreshing to watch a show that originated blatant hookups, chicks before dicks and complicated relationships. Never have I ever thought I would actually be relating to it.
There are times where I feel like Carrie. She has a Mr. Big who she's been in a complicated, back and forth relationship with for 6 years. She always feels second best because he can't commit to her and he has a problem saying no to other needy girls. However, she loves him and doesn't know how to let that go. They remain good friends and more than that off and on. She dates other men and can't commit to them even though Big commits to other women over her and causes her chase him all the time. But in the end, she ends up with him because he rescues her from a dreadful relationship in Paris after he realizes that she will always be there to catch him when he falls blah blah blah. And they have a fabulous life. Sigh.
Now, I'm not one to talk about personal business here but let's focus on the having a problem saying "no" to other needy girls. Let's say, there is a boy and a girl who are/were classmates. I'll keep the code name Boy for boy but let's call girl: bitchface who needs liposuction.
Ok so bitchface has been nothing but a piece of shit bloodsucking whore who desperately wants Boy to be her Boyfriend. Now, this bitch used Boy to do her every whim, called him whenever HE WAS IN BED WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND at 2am because she needed someone to cry to, and constantly tried to make him see that she was much better than what he had. All the while, she wanted him to think she was still better than him by making him feel bad for receiving a high honor that she thought she deserved. Ahh but I digress.
Apparently, last weekend Boy and Bitchface had a little makeout session much to this writer's chagrin. And the little fat heifer bit him. YES, she BIT him. Now, I can't tell if this is some sort of poetic justice: Newsflash to boy - if she's going to bite your lip, imagine what else could PAINFULLY HAPPEN with that mouth in other places. I mean, bitch drew blood for the love of God. Ok, so I could be a little harsh because I'm biased and this bitch has been the bane of my existence for over a year, BUT I mean, come on. YOU BIT HIM. And I'm sure you're going to go running to him crying about how sorry you are and how you're going to profess your undying love for him or some bullshit like that but let's be honest, you did it for a reason. Whether it be subconscious or not, you did it for a reason. And maybe this writer should be mad at Boy. But I've learned to be patient. He may always choose to take care of her business over mine. He may not. He may have facebook pictures with her looking like a couple. Or he may realize (finally) that she's CRAZY and untag them because you are who your friends are. Either way, I guess I'll have to wait until she bites... down there for him to see that she will always bite the hand that feeds her.
There are times where I feel like Carrie. She has a Mr. Big who she's been in a complicated, back and forth relationship with for 6 years. She always feels second best because he can't commit to her and he has a problem saying no to other needy girls. However, she loves him and doesn't know how to let that go. They remain good friends and more than that off and on. She dates other men and can't commit to them even though Big commits to other women over her and causes her chase him all the time. But in the end, she ends up with him because he rescues her from a dreadful relationship in Paris after he realizes that she will always be there to catch him when he falls blah blah blah. And they have a fabulous life. Sigh.
Now, I'm not one to talk about personal business here but let's focus on the having a problem saying "no" to other needy girls. Let's say, there is a boy and a girl who are/were classmates. I'll keep the code name Boy for boy but let's call girl: bitchface who needs liposuction.
Ok so bitchface has been nothing but a piece of shit bloodsucking whore who desperately wants Boy to be her Boyfriend. Now, this bitch used Boy to do her every whim, called him whenever HE WAS IN BED WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND at 2am because she needed someone to cry to, and constantly tried to make him see that she was much better than what he had. All the while, she wanted him to think she was still better than him by making him feel bad for receiving a high honor that she thought she deserved. Ahh but I digress.
Apparently, last weekend Boy and Bitchface had a little makeout session much to this writer's chagrin. And the little fat heifer bit him. YES, she BIT him. Now, I can't tell if this is some sort of poetic justice: Newsflash to boy - if she's going to bite your lip, imagine what else could PAINFULLY HAPPEN with that mouth in other places. I mean, bitch drew blood for the love of God. Ok, so I could be a little harsh because I'm biased and this bitch has been the bane of my existence for over a year, BUT I mean, come on. YOU BIT HIM. And I'm sure you're going to go running to him crying about how sorry you are and how you're going to profess your undying love for him or some bullshit like that but let's be honest, you did it for a reason. Whether it be subconscious or not, you did it for a reason. And maybe this writer should be mad at Boy. But I've learned to be patient. He may always choose to take care of her business over mine. He may not. He may have facebook pictures with her looking like a couple. Or he may realize (finally) that she's CRAZY and untag them because you are who your friends are. Either way, I guess I'll have to wait until she bites... down there for him to see that she will always bite the hand that feeds her.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Michael Vick v. Alberto Gonzales
Yesterday, I received a text message at 5:30am PST. In the glare of my phone, the text "the ag resigned" immediately woke me out of my deep slumber. I jumped out of bed to turn on the news. Tidbits on CNN were showing the Main Justice Building followed by copious amounts of commercials. Frustrated, I turned to the local news.
Does anyone in Orange County know who Alberto Gonzales is/was? Apparently not. The local channels have their weather girls in evening gowns and the big story of the morning was not the resignation of the most contested U.S. Attorney General in recent history but on diet foods. DIET FOODS IN THE SUPERMARKET. Really? Really?
Flipping back to CNN, I forlornly tried to find anything that would show something about good old Al. At least it got some substantial press time from 6-8am PST. There were some good interviews with the head of the Judiciary Committee as well as most of the Senators that gave Gonzo some good flak for his testimonies in the past few months.
Then for the rest of the day, it was all about Michael Vick and his puppy killing ways. Ok, ok. I understand, puppy killers = NOT GOOD PEOPLE. But the ATTORNEY GENERAL resigned. Another vacancy in the Bush Cabinet! His loyal followers are starting to drop like flies and no one cares! Maybe I'm just pissed because I wanted to be there when it happened. Maybe we would have gotten a day off? Oh right. Every day is a day off for me these days. Or not. I'd rather be paid right now as opposed to being a poor law student who lives in an area where you have to be all done up to give a weather report. (Sorry guys, contrary to popular belief, the weather girls here don't wear bikinis. I repeat, they do not wear bikinis.)
I guess I should be happy that at least it was about Vick and what a horrible person he is for killing 6-8 dogs and not about Lindsay Lohan back in rehab or some shit like that. 6-8 dogs! Ugh. I think I might just throw up.
Does anyone in Orange County know who Alberto Gonzales is/was? Apparently not. The local channels have their weather girls in evening gowns and the big story of the morning was not the resignation of the most contested U.S. Attorney General in recent history but on diet foods. DIET FOODS IN THE SUPERMARKET. Really? Really?
Flipping back to CNN, I forlornly tried to find anything that would show something about good old Al. At least it got some substantial press time from 6-8am PST. There were some good interviews with the head of the Judiciary Committee as well as most of the Senators that gave Gonzo some good flak for his testimonies in the past few months.
Then for the rest of the day, it was all about Michael Vick and his puppy killing ways. Ok, ok. I understand, puppy killers = NOT GOOD PEOPLE. But the ATTORNEY GENERAL resigned. Another vacancy in the Bush Cabinet! His loyal followers are starting to drop like flies and no one cares! Maybe I'm just pissed because I wanted to be there when it happened. Maybe we would have gotten a day off? Oh right. Every day is a day off for me these days. Or not. I'd rather be paid right now as opposed to being a poor law student who lives in an area where you have to be all done up to give a weather report. (Sorry guys, contrary to popular belief, the weather girls here don't wear bikinis. I repeat, they do not wear bikinis.)
I guess I should be happy that at least it was about Vick and what a horrible person he is for killing 6-8 dogs and not about Lindsay Lohan back in rehab or some shit like that. 6-8 dogs! Ugh. I think I might just throw up.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
I survived my first week and all I got was Pinkeye.
Yup, that's right. Pinkeye. Now, first of all, who gets pinkeye over the age of 13?!?!?
I pray that this is the icing on the cake of unfortunate events that lead me to the end of my first week of law school.
1.) DOJ still hasn't paid me. Thank God I'm learning how to sue the Government. I'll get stuck in red tape and tons of papers, never be able to work the DOJ ever again, spend a ton of money on litigation and all because Human Resources is retarded. Plain and simple. RETARDED.
2.) My lenders have decided to move at a glacial place in disbursing my loans. After calling and checking every day, apparently the stress of everything that's gone on took its toll on Friday and I burst into tears at the financial aid office - babbling something about not being able to eat. Blah blah blah. Yes, I am totally judging myself.
3.) Dell Computer still hasn't even BEGUN to send my stupid laptop to me. And of course, I need it for my Legal Writing course since we have to buy E-Books now. Whatever happened to good old fashioned textbooks??? At least I got a free printer out of Dell. I still have half a mind to fly to whatever third world country they outsource their customer care providers from and seriously wringing his or her neck.
4.) I was switched in and out of sections on the first day. Of COURSE my schedule would be changed around last minute. Why WOULDN'T that happen? Forget that all the books I bought were already marked up. Forget that I did all the HW for the first day. And of course, after talking to the Dean of Student Affairs and going to all the wrong classes the first day, this switch was in error. Ahhh red tape, I swim in you.
5.) I have pinkeye. I mean, really? It's not enough that the aforementioned are still clouding up my mind. But I have to wake up with my eyes swollen shut. Nevermind that I have at least 50 pages of reading a night, how the hell am I supposed to put make up on? You act like I can leave the house without makeup. This is Orange County for the love of God. I'm lucky I even got into the bars here with my real boobs. (Which mind you are fantastic on the East Coast but less than average here in the OC.)
Seriously, where am I?
I pray that this is the icing on the cake of unfortunate events that lead me to the end of my first week of law school.
1.) DOJ still hasn't paid me. Thank God I'm learning how to sue the Government. I'll get stuck in red tape and tons of papers, never be able to work the DOJ ever again, spend a ton of money on litigation and all because Human Resources is retarded. Plain and simple. RETARDED.
2.) My lenders have decided to move at a glacial place in disbursing my loans. After calling and checking every day, apparently the stress of everything that's gone on took its toll on Friday and I burst into tears at the financial aid office - babbling something about not being able to eat. Blah blah blah. Yes, I am totally judging myself.
3.) Dell Computer still hasn't even BEGUN to send my stupid laptop to me. And of course, I need it for my Legal Writing course since we have to buy E-Books now. Whatever happened to good old fashioned textbooks??? At least I got a free printer out of Dell. I still have half a mind to fly to whatever third world country they outsource their customer care providers from and seriously wringing his or her neck.
4.) I was switched in and out of sections on the first day. Of COURSE my schedule would be changed around last minute. Why WOULDN'T that happen? Forget that all the books I bought were already marked up. Forget that I did all the HW for the first day. And of course, after talking to the Dean of Student Affairs and going to all the wrong classes the first day, this switch was in error. Ahhh red tape, I swim in you.
5.) I have pinkeye. I mean, really? It's not enough that the aforementioned are still clouding up my mind. But I have to wake up with my eyes swollen shut. Nevermind that I have at least 50 pages of reading a night, how the hell am I supposed to put make up on? You act like I can leave the house without makeup. This is Orange County for the love of God. I'm lucky I even got into the bars here with my real boobs. (Which mind you are fantastic on the East Coast but less than average here in the OC.)
Seriously, where am I?
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Orientation
Now, for my own sake, I was told to give people a chance. (You know who you are.) Done and done.
It's only my 4th day of orientation and I feel like I've been here for 3 weeks! The amount of forced socializing is overflowing and of course, you have to be nice to your fellow colleagues because you don't want to be coined as that "pretentious bitch."
I am that pretentious bitch. Or maybe just cynical. Or maybe I'm just not meant to be in the OC. Let me break it down for you.
A.) Apparently, it is customary to show up on your first day of Orientation in a dress that could be almost considered ballroom formal. (Note this makes you an attention WHORE). See, the trick is to make sure you show enough fake cleavage and that the fabric clings to your ass. And believe me, after being here for a week and a half I can officially spot fake tits. They're everywhere!
B.) It is also customary to get a bunch of your fellow guy classmate's numbers and text them constantly in hopes to get laid. You know, like casting a wide fishing net and praying you get a piece of ass, er, trout. Now, I am all about a woman's right to "spit game" to whomever she pleases to. But really, this is law school, not an effing dating service. This makes you a WHORE.
C.) The aforementioned is also true in the reverse. Newsflash, penis or not, this still makes you a WHORE.
D.) Sometimes, in order to be well liked in law school, you have to keep your mouth shut. It's really sad when you have already been coined "that guy" who will not shut up in class causing your fellow colleagues to start keeping a tally of just how many times you will speak about something inane to show the professor that you have a modicum of intelligence. NEWSFLASH: This makes you a PARTICIPATION WHORE.
Ahh yes, orientation. The art of acclimating to your school and classmates. From what I can see, I may honestly be the most chaste person in my class.
Now THAT is a scary thought.
It's only my 4th day of orientation and I feel like I've been here for 3 weeks! The amount of forced socializing is overflowing and of course, you have to be nice to your fellow colleagues because you don't want to be coined as that "pretentious bitch."
I am that pretentious bitch. Or maybe just cynical. Or maybe I'm just not meant to be in the OC. Let me break it down for you.
A.) Apparently, it is customary to show up on your first day of Orientation in a dress that could be almost considered ballroom formal. (Note this makes you an attention WHORE). See, the trick is to make sure you show enough fake cleavage and that the fabric clings to your ass. And believe me, after being here for a week and a half I can officially spot fake tits. They're everywhere!
B.) It is also customary to get a bunch of your fellow guy classmate's numbers and text them constantly in hopes to get laid. You know, like casting a wide fishing net and praying you get a piece of ass, er, trout. Now, I am all about a woman's right to "spit game" to whomever she pleases to. But really, this is law school, not an effing dating service. This makes you a WHORE.
C.) The aforementioned is also true in the reverse. Newsflash, penis or not, this still makes you a WHORE.
D.) Sometimes, in order to be well liked in law school, you have to keep your mouth shut. It's really sad when you have already been coined "that guy" who will not shut up in class causing your fellow colleagues to start keeping a tally of just how many times you will speak about something inane to show the professor that you have a modicum of intelligence. NEWSFLASH: This makes you a PARTICIPATION WHORE.
Ahh yes, orientation. The art of acclimating to your school and classmates. From what I can see, I may honestly be the most chaste person in my class.
Now THAT is a scary thought.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Misery
Question: Why was it so painful to drive 6 hours down to Orange Country from Fremont when I've done longer road trips back East without a hint of crankiness?
Answer: Because I was with my parents.
It's been a couple days since I put my parents on a plane back to Fremont. Oddly enough, I've actually missed them. Or maybe, I just missed the familiarity of someone here in Costa Mesa. I think they felt awkward when they (my parents) realized that I actually didn't want to be here.
On Friday, a good friend from back home (home being D.C. of course) came out to visit. Conveniently enough, his dad lives about 45 minutes away from me and he happened to do what I did but in reverse. Fly into SoCal in order to drive the horrific 6 hours to NorCal. I don't know which is worse - driving alone or driving with my parents.
Driving with my parents.
Anyway, Thursday was probably the first day that I haven't cried. Baby steps? I think so. Unfortunately, it's not getting any easier. Apparently Dell Computers has estimated that they will ship my computer to me on 9/7/07. Yup, that's not a typo. SEPTEMBER 7TH. That's like 3 weeks after school starts and definitely over a month since I ordered the little piece of shit. I blame all the people who recommended it. And of course every time I call I get some idiot who's probably my third cousin once removed in the Philippines. F* that. I want my stupid computer.
Secondly and probably most importantly, the Department of Justice still hasn't paid me my final paycheck. Now, explain this to me: In a government agency that rarely goes off routine, why, WHY would something as simple as a final electronic disbursement be difficult to do? Oh right. BECAUSE ITS THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. As if they hadn't screwed me over enough already by asking me to work late hours and give up weekends and holidays, they just happen to forget to pay me. Bitches, you owe me at LEAST a grand and a half. Pay up.
In all fairness, my attitude on life in the OC is starting to look a little less gloomy. Like I said, my friend came to visit and we had a blast. My roommate and I went to the beach yesterday and it was gorgeous. The weather was nice, the people were beautiful and there was a couple sitting no more than 20 feet from me smoking a joint.
How can I not like California? (No, really, please convince me.)
Answer: Because I was with my parents.
It's been a couple days since I put my parents on a plane back to Fremont. Oddly enough, I've actually missed them. Or maybe, I just missed the familiarity of someone here in Costa Mesa. I think they felt awkward when they (my parents) realized that I actually didn't want to be here.
On Friday, a good friend from back home (home being D.C. of course) came out to visit. Conveniently enough, his dad lives about 45 minutes away from me and he happened to do what I did but in reverse. Fly into SoCal in order to drive the horrific 6 hours to NorCal. I don't know which is worse - driving alone or driving with my parents.
Driving with my parents.
Anyway, Thursday was probably the first day that I haven't cried. Baby steps? I think so. Unfortunately, it's not getting any easier. Apparently Dell Computers has estimated that they will ship my computer to me on 9/7/07. Yup, that's not a typo. SEPTEMBER 7TH. That's like 3 weeks after school starts and definitely over a month since I ordered the little piece of shit. I blame all the people who recommended it. And of course every time I call I get some idiot who's probably my third cousin once removed in the Philippines. F* that. I want my stupid computer.
Secondly and probably most importantly, the Department of Justice still hasn't paid me my final paycheck. Now, explain this to me: In a government agency that rarely goes off routine, why, WHY would something as simple as a final electronic disbursement be difficult to do? Oh right. BECAUSE ITS THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. As if they hadn't screwed me over enough already by asking me to work late hours and give up weekends and holidays, they just happen to forget to pay me. Bitches, you owe me at LEAST a grand and a half. Pay up.
In all fairness, my attitude on life in the OC is starting to look a little less gloomy. Like I said, my friend came to visit and we had a blast. My roommate and I went to the beach yesterday and it was gorgeous. The weather was nice, the people were beautiful and there was a couple sitting no more than 20 feet from me smoking a joint.
How can I not like California? (No, really, please convince me.)
Friday, August 3, 2007
Vacation? What's that?
Sometimes I think I'm not meant to take a sweet vacation. I've just returned from my cruise to Mexico (Cabo San Lucas!) and all I can say is... the cabin's tv was a fantastic view.
I flew home to California on Friday, July 27th. As luck would have it, I would get incredibly sick on July 26th with a fever of 102.5. Meanwhile, at this point, I was nowhere near done with packing. So, thankfully, CB was gracious enough to volunteer to pack my things for me as i lay in delirium in bed. He begged me to go to the hospital but my parents insisted to wait until I got back to California so they can hook it up with some sweet drugs. (Note: this was only under special and emergency circumstances. Normally, my father does not really "hook" it up.)
Then, because my parents promised me that the antibiotics would clear up my strep in 2 days, I embarked on a cruise to Mexico as my final vacation before my prison sentence. Oh, excuse me, "law school".
BAD IDEA.
I was sick the entire time. My fever broke the first day and then I got sick AGAIN with 102 degrees. I couldnt eat. I was too much in pain to sleep. I just lay in a windowless cabin with my two sisters watching my stories in Espanol.
Oh well. I can always try for next Summer? Or maybe when/if I get married I can convince my husband to take a year off and travel the world. I want a vacation damnit!
I flew home to California on Friday, July 27th. As luck would have it, I would get incredibly sick on July 26th with a fever of 102.5. Meanwhile, at this point, I was nowhere near done with packing. So, thankfully, CB was gracious enough to volunteer to pack my things for me as i lay in delirium in bed. He begged me to go to the hospital but my parents insisted to wait until I got back to California so they can hook it up with some sweet drugs. (Note: this was only under special and emergency circumstances. Normally, my father does not really "hook" it up.)
Then, because my parents promised me that the antibiotics would clear up my strep in 2 days, I embarked on a cruise to Mexico as my final vacation before my prison sentence. Oh, excuse me, "law school".
BAD IDEA.
I was sick the entire time. My fever broke the first day and then I got sick AGAIN with 102 degrees. I couldnt eat. I was too much in pain to sleep. I just lay in a windowless cabin with my two sisters watching my stories in Espanol.
Oh well. I can always try for next Summer? Or maybe when/if I get married I can convince my husband to take a year off and travel the world. I want a vacation damnit!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Free at last, Free at last
Today was my last day at the DOJ. As I can see, my last post was a little bit ago. As an update: I quit my job because I decided to go to law school back in California. The entire week was pretty bittersweet. Well wishers came out of the woodwork. People who didn't give me the time of day because I didn't finish my name with the coveted "J.D." now want to disburse ample advice to ensure my success. Clearly they don't remember when they sent me an email to walk all the way over by his or her office to pick up a piece of paper he or she printed out and set it on his or her desk.
But I digress.
This week made me F-A-T. Lunches, Happy Hours, Cakes. I almost don't want to leave. Almost. Clearly, this is indicative of an abusive relationship. For 2 years I worked no less than 50-60 hours a week. I came in on weekends, holidays and even canceled vacations just to stay and work with very little appreciation. My supervisor terrorized me. My attorneys were demanding. And I bared garnered respect from fellow coworkers who were "younger" than me but thought they were "better" than me because of where they were placed in the office. The end result? Cake. And a DOJ Seal signed by my colleagues. Oh, and a very expensive hardbound Black's Law Dictionary.
Would I go back? Perhaps. What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment. That and I kept my benefits active so that I can bank that shit when I retire. But in all seriousness, I learned a lot, I made great connections with the attorneys I worked with and I was privileged to work on some of the stuff I did work on. Goodbye DOJ and Alberto. See you in a few years... maybe.
p.s. For those who believe that Gov't workers don't work: please see me. I'll straighten you out.
But I digress.
This week made me F-A-T. Lunches, Happy Hours, Cakes. I almost don't want to leave. Almost. Clearly, this is indicative of an abusive relationship. For 2 years I worked no less than 50-60 hours a week. I came in on weekends, holidays and even canceled vacations just to stay and work with very little appreciation. My supervisor terrorized me. My attorneys were demanding. And I bared garnered respect from fellow coworkers who were "younger" than me but thought they were "better" than me because of where they were placed in the office. The end result? Cake. And a DOJ Seal signed by my colleagues. Oh, and a very expensive hardbound Black's Law Dictionary.
Would I go back? Perhaps. What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment. That and I kept my benefits active so that I can bank that shit when I retire. But in all seriousness, I learned a lot, I made great connections with the attorneys I worked with and I was privileged to work on some of the stuff I did work on. Goodbye DOJ and Alberto. See you in a few years... maybe.
p.s. For those who believe that Gov't workers don't work: please see me. I'll straighten you out.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Devil in a Blue Dress
Today, the Attorney General released a memo congratulating DOJ employees on making the grade in the "Best Places to Work in the Federal Government". Apparently my division, Environment and Natural Resources, made number 2 on said list of "Best Places." Now, i've been happy working at my job for almost 2 years, don't get me wrong. However, if someone were to ask me to help them get into my section, I would tell them to run for the goddamn hills. This office is poorly run and some people just shouldn't be managers.
For example. My supervisor, Nancy (code name), is a cold heartless 40 something year old bitch. The sad part is, she's a cold heartless bitch without a brain to make up for her emotionless inadequacy. For a woman who barely has a high school degree, she likes to get off making most (if not all) of our lives a living hell. Case in point. I'm supposed to be on annual leave (or vacation for you private sector folk) from May 29th to June 1st. This bitch, comes up to me and says "You're the 4th person to be out that week." What the FUCK am I supposed to say to that? "Yes, [Nancy], you're right."
"Well, I don't think it's right for you to be out. Don't you have a lot of work to get through? You're the 4th person to be out. And, knowing you, you'll be sick when you get back. Don't you dare get sick on me again."
Excuse me? Thank God for proper documentation from my doctors. YOU judge ME when all you do is talk about how your fucking kids have a "headache" in the morning and thats why you SAUNTER into the office at 11am? AND LEAVE AT 4PM? IT IS YOUR FUCKING JOB to find someone to take over my immediate projects. YOU HIRED 3 EXTRA PEOPLE FOR THAT PURPOSE. I like to think that i'm good at my job. But really, you can find someone else to make a goddamn binder. I was unaware that my presence was needed for something so fucking important.
Now, the thing people don't realize with Nancy and myself is that she's been doing this to me since I started working here. The reason why it hasn't escalated greatly is because Brown showed up to be HER supervisor and ultimately, my boss. Brown is great. He'll fix everything. Unfortunately, he's out of town and will return on Monday. But this is not how an office should run. This shouldn't BE like Cinderella with her wicked stepmother (although I'm sure the wicked stepmother had more education than this heifer) torturing her while her father is away on business. The sentiment in this office with that is pretty rampant. Turnover is high. I've heard stories of people just getting up, shutting down his or her computer and leaving in the middle of the day never more to return.
So, the big question amongst us is, where the hell was this survey and why weren't we allowed to partake in it? Is it because the higher management took it and lied? Is it because they surveyed the Environmental Crimes Section who, like Lazy Nancy, also come in at 10am and leave at 4:30? (Yes, that is your taxpaying dollars, people - and yes, they get paid full time.) I do know one thing. That survey did NOT reflect the opinions of the people in the Natural Resources Section. Attorneys and support staff alike wonder, "Who filled out this survey?" My guess? Probably good ol' Al. But if you ask him, he probably wouldn't recall if that ever happened.
For example. My supervisor, Nancy (code name), is a cold heartless 40 something year old bitch. The sad part is, she's a cold heartless bitch without a brain to make up for her emotionless inadequacy. For a woman who barely has a high school degree, she likes to get off making most (if not all) of our lives a living hell. Case in point. I'm supposed to be on annual leave (or vacation for you private sector folk) from May 29th to June 1st. This bitch, comes up to me and says "You're the 4th person to be out that week." What the FUCK am I supposed to say to that? "Yes, [Nancy], you're right."
"Well, I don't think it's right for you to be out. Don't you have a lot of work to get through? You're the 4th person to be out. And, knowing you, you'll be sick when you get back. Don't you dare get sick on me again."
Excuse me? Thank God for proper documentation from my doctors. YOU judge ME when all you do is talk about how your fucking kids have a "headache" in the morning and thats why you SAUNTER into the office at 11am? AND LEAVE AT 4PM? IT IS YOUR FUCKING JOB to find someone to take over my immediate projects. YOU HIRED 3 EXTRA PEOPLE FOR THAT PURPOSE. I like to think that i'm good at my job. But really, you can find someone else to make a goddamn binder. I was unaware that my presence was needed for something so fucking important.
Now, the thing people don't realize with Nancy and myself is that she's been doing this to me since I started working here. The reason why it hasn't escalated greatly is because Brown showed up to be HER supervisor and ultimately, my boss. Brown is great. He'll fix everything. Unfortunately, he's out of town and will return on Monday. But this is not how an office should run. This shouldn't BE like Cinderella with her wicked stepmother (although I'm sure the wicked stepmother had more education than this heifer) torturing her while her father is away on business. The sentiment in this office with that is pretty rampant. Turnover is high. I've heard stories of people just getting up, shutting down his or her computer and leaving in the middle of the day never more to return.
So, the big question amongst us is, where the hell was this survey and why weren't we allowed to partake in it? Is it because the higher management took it and lied? Is it because they surveyed the Environmental Crimes Section who, like Lazy Nancy, also come in at 10am and leave at 4:30? (Yes, that is your taxpaying dollars, people - and yes, they get paid full time.) I do know one thing. That survey did NOT reflect the opinions of the people in the Natural Resources Section. Attorneys and support staff alike wonder, "Who filled out this survey?" My guess? Probably good ol' Al. But if you ask him, he probably wouldn't recall if that ever happened.
Monday, May 14, 2007
This is what happens when your parents don't use birth control.
So my baby sister (read: not really a baby anymore but always a baby to me - awwww) has become a teenager and is trying to find herself. 6 months ago I happened to stumble upon our other sister's YouTube account only to watch, in shock and utter amusement, Julia (my baby sister) give a Dance Dance Revolution tutorial. Or maybe it was just to show off her skills. Either way, I didn't think I was ever going to laugh that hard again.
Until today.
Now, I love my sisters. They're very unique and although a lot of people say they can't ever imagine us sharing any sort of genetic markers, the one thing we share is the intense sense of sarcasm and judgment we use on each other.
For example, last time I was home my best friend and I wanted to try a dance workout video. Julia (the 14 year old girl in the video) said "Well, maybe if you didn't drink all that booze, you wouldn't be so fat."
Well miss thang, let's discuss your Beatboxing Tutorial. First of all, WHAT exactly are you wearing? I'm actually terrified that you're going to come find me with the Russian mafia and beat(box) me back to the Cold War. Seriously? How is it that our mother won't let me leave the house without a $500 designer bag and you get to post a video of yourself looking like...that?
Second of all, whilst i'm proud that you're getting to be really good at your, um, newfound skill - do you even understand the lyrics you are beatboxing to? "If your mother only knew/that you was try-en to get with me." You're 14. I'm 23. I STILL don't understand the content of that line. And believe me, i've been around the block once or twice. Excuse me, "hood."
Lastly, what made you change skills (skillz)? Dance dance revolution was a perfectly acceptable hobby, as well as, drawing Anime and playing the violin. Uh, nevermind. Carry on with this hobby. But remember sister, you are NOT, read: NOT, an underprivileged child beatboxing about the woes of your life. I know where you live and how you have Coach shoes. You ain't foolin' me.
Although I must say, I was very impressed with your edit disclaimer on your video:
Very nice. Keep up the good work.
Until today.
Now, I love my sisters. They're very unique and although a lot of people say they can't ever imagine us sharing any sort of genetic markers, the one thing we share is the intense sense of sarcasm and judgment we use on each other.
For example, last time I was home my best friend and I wanted to try a dance workout video. Julia (the 14 year old girl in the video) said "Well, maybe if you didn't drink all that booze, you wouldn't be so fat."
Well miss thang, let's discuss your Beatboxing Tutorial. First of all, WHAT exactly are you wearing? I'm actually terrified that you're going to come find me with the Russian mafia and beat(box) me back to the Cold War. Seriously? How is it that our mother won't let me leave the house without a $500 designer bag and you get to post a video of yourself looking like...that?
Second of all, whilst i'm proud that you're getting to be really good at your, um, newfound skill - do you even understand the lyrics you are beatboxing to? "If your mother only knew/that you was try-en to get with me." You're 14. I'm 23. I STILL don't understand the content of that line. And believe me, i've been around the block once or twice. Excuse me, "hood."
Lastly, what made you change skills (skillz)? Dance dance revolution was a perfectly acceptable hobby, as well as, drawing Anime and playing the violin. Uh, nevermind. Carry on with this hobby. But remember sister, you are NOT, read: NOT, an underprivileged child beatboxing about the woes of your life. I know where you live and how you have Coach shoes. You ain't foolin' me.
Although I must say, I was very impressed with your edit disclaimer on your video:
Since I didn't realize that many haters on YouTube are too stupid to be able to read the damn description, I will warn you that I WILL delete negative comments(offensive without reason or strong language used). I do accept critique with supporting details and ideas of my improvement.
Very nice. Keep up the good work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)