It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that if you go out any day or night of the week wearing leather leggings, a low cut shirt & fuck me boots (or any combo & occasionally, any singular item similiar to those listed) you will encounter a variety of unwelcomed catcalling. It's also safe to say that very little of those random remarks of notice will actually ever turn into a real conversation. Needless to say, they are understandable & in some cases an ego boost.
However, it is those occasional days, where your purpose is soley to get from point A to point B, that those catcalls are nothing more than nails on a chalkboard & eggs on your window shield.
Which brings me to the question: Why is it that some guys can so easily "call" you and yet the one you want to hear from isn't a phone call or cat call or even booty call away?
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Some call me Vain
I lost 4 pounds. Of actual weight. It wasn't that hard either... I drank laxative tea every night, reduced my calories/carbs, chewed lots of cinnamon gum (effectively curves appetite, highly recommended) and did other sorts of things not appropriate to discuss. Im extremely thrilled and plan on losing 6 more.
xxx
skinny bitch
xxx
skinny bitch
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Lighten Up! (thank you urbandictionary.com)
| 1. | sunshine | | |||
| A cute affectionate word use to show enderment toward a significant other. If you are someones sunshine it means, you make their world brighter!! Bizkit is Cleo's sunshine!! and Cleo is Bizkit's sunshine!! | |||||
| 3. | sunshine | | |||
| Slang word for coccaine. "I'm happy I'm feelin glad I got sunshine in a bag" - The Gorillaz | |||||
I Care About the Environment
I have always been of the strong belief that if anyone has something remarkably important to say to me, they will do so by way of a text. Hence all other modes of communication are generally ignored, including mail. In a day in age where we are moving to a paperless society, I see no benefit to anything other than digitial communication.
The only type of "slow mail" that I receive on a regular basis are formal rejection letters. These letters are rarely acknowledged as when the firm posts on monster.com three days post rejection, I will once again apply to the same position. It really is an exhausting game of cat and mouse. Opposed to the formal very pleasant rejection letters I receive on a daily basis which recognize my outstanding credentials, Human Resources should save a lot of time and paper by sending me a text message that read something like: "Hey C, please do not apply to us ever again."
I thought I had reached a new low yesterday when the firm referenced in post "uptown, downtown" had sent me a formal rejection letter, but really today is an official milestone; I have started receiving mail from the American Bar Association at my temporary post in the publishing company. The mail clerk, who has suffered from a head injury and is known to be slightly brain damaged, asked me if I had taken the Bar. When I explained to him that I had not only taken the Bar, but was admitted to the practice, he looked at me in a complete state of disgust and walked out of our not even cubicle area shaking his head and laughing.
The only type of "slow mail" that I receive on a regular basis are formal rejection letters. These letters are rarely acknowledged as when the firm posts on monster.com three days post rejection, I will once again apply to the same position. It really is an exhausting game of cat and mouse. Opposed to the formal very pleasant rejection letters I receive on a daily basis which recognize my outstanding credentials, Human Resources should save a lot of time and paper by sending me a text message that read something like: "Hey C, please do not apply to us ever again."
I thought I had reached a new low yesterday when the firm referenced in post "uptown, downtown" had sent me a formal rejection letter, but really today is an official milestone; I have started receiving mail from the American Bar Association at my temporary post in the publishing company. The mail clerk, who has suffered from a head injury and is known to be slightly brain damaged, asked me if I had taken the Bar. When I explained to him that I had not only taken the Bar, but was admitted to the practice, he looked at me in a complete state of disgust and walked out of our not even cubicle area shaking his head and laughing.
A word from the Ex-Girlfriend
Dear New Girlfriend,
Let me take a moment to acknowledge your email this morning. I appreciate you taking those 45 mins out of your day to compose a nearly illiterate email on a program which I am 100% sure has spell check. It was a day brightener to sift through your double indefinite articles; I understand how difficult it can be to choose when to use the article 'a' or 'an' & how much easier it is to use both when in doubt. It was also amusing and slightly disheartening reading your numerous statements of admitted craziness.
Now, in your defense, I understand (as a girl) how certain situations can prompt spouts of crazy in which you may project insecurities unto others. I also understand, as a girl, how nerve wracking it can be to be in a relationship. I, myself, avoid relationships altogether. This is really the best option for us (girls). People are quick to pin a girl as 'crazy' and outside of a relationship is really where we can best avoid this.
In regards to your concerns/questions within this said email:
1- Geographically speaking, there is approximately zero chance of your current boyfriend & I having an intimate relationship. You see, according to Google, there is a 4 state separation between the two of us, and although I take yoga, I dont believe the easy in which sex would be accomplished would really outweigh the result.
2- Even with the high tech abilities of the internet (& mainly email with which you found your 'evidence' of a relationship) the contact ability has not advanced farther than video chatting and neither myself or your current boyfriend have these capabilities.
3- I BROKE UP WITH HIM. Needless to say, this may have been a mistake as I now see he is among the top 3 men I have ever met.
4- Please refer to number 1
5- Your current boyfriend & my conversation was a harmless joke about shopping & cooking. Although some may argue that either of these topics are, in fact, sexual, in our case they are not. Please take it as it is & see there was no harm or undercurrent to our banter.
And finally, the bottom line is there are issues within your relationship that need to be settled. Ive always been a fan of getting involved in interesting situations with couples, but those only happen in the bedroom. So unless this email is your backwards way of inviting me over for some fun time in our undies, I'll skip this threesome.
Good luck with everything,
xoxo
eM
Let me take a moment to acknowledge your email this morning. I appreciate you taking those 45 mins out of your day to compose a nearly illiterate email on a program which I am 100% sure has spell check. It was a day brightener to sift through your double indefinite articles; I understand how difficult it can be to choose when to use the article 'a' or 'an' & how much easier it is to use both when in doubt. It was also amusing and slightly disheartening reading your numerous statements of admitted craziness.
Now, in your defense, I understand (as a girl) how certain situations can prompt spouts of crazy in which you may project insecurities unto others. I also understand, as a girl, how nerve wracking it can be to be in a relationship. I, myself, avoid relationships altogether. This is really the best option for us (girls). People are quick to pin a girl as 'crazy' and outside of a relationship is really where we can best avoid this.
In regards to your concerns/questions within this said email:
1- Geographically speaking, there is approximately zero chance of your current boyfriend & I having an intimate relationship. You see, according to Google, there is a 4 state separation between the two of us, and although I take yoga, I dont believe the easy in which sex would be accomplished would really outweigh the result.
2- Even with the high tech abilities of the internet (& mainly email with which you found your 'evidence' of a relationship) the contact ability has not advanced farther than video chatting and neither myself or your current boyfriend have these capabilities.
3- I BROKE UP WITH HIM. Needless to say, this may have been a mistake as I now see he is among the top 3 men I have ever met.
4- Please refer to number 1
5- Your current boyfriend & my conversation was a harmless joke about shopping & cooking. Although some may argue that either of these topics are, in fact, sexual, in our case they are not. Please take it as it is & see there was no harm or undercurrent to our banter.
And finally, the bottom line is there are issues within your relationship that need to be settled. Ive always been a fan of getting involved in interesting situations with couples, but those only happen in the bedroom. So unless this email is your backwards way of inviting me over for some fun time in our undies, I'll skip this threesome.
Good luck with everything,
xoxo
eM
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Fuck you Rules of Dating
New York Magazine decided to start a round of possible suicides and/or depression among many women in NY when they sent out this weeks invitation to the "New York Weddings" showcase.
As if it wasn't bad enough that we managed to (barely & thanks to heavy alcohol) survive both Thanksgiving & Christmas, and then drunkingly attach ourself to someone to make it through the night on New Years; we are now officially entering yet another season, ALONE.
But ofcourse with the onset of Spring comes wedding season, & the lovely reminder of our singleness & failure at finding anything resembling a real relationship.
And as I book my plane ticket for bachelorette role #1 of the year, I play over in my head my future relationship and life with an actual man... and well, its safe to say, Im actually more likely to win the Mega Millions.
As if it wasn't bad enough that we managed to (barely & thanks to heavy alcohol) survive both Thanksgiving & Christmas, and then drunkingly attach ourself to someone to make it through the night on New Years; we are now officially entering yet another season, ALONE.
But ofcourse with the onset of Spring comes wedding season, & the lovely reminder of our singleness & failure at finding anything resembling a real relationship.
And as I book my plane ticket for bachelorette role #1 of the year, I play over in my head my future relationship and life with an actual man... and well, its safe to say, Im actually more likely to win the Mega Millions.
When You're a Jet
I was all too pleased to visit my alma matta yesterday, as nothing like the buzz of garbage to make your shitty day a bit more shitty. Former students had informed me that garbage had in fact been renovated and was looking very glamorous. I noticed no such change. In fact, as I was approaching the group of soda cans standing outside smoking their cigarettes like a heard of cows grazing, not so much as stopping between inhale/exhale to open up the door for a fellow peer in a wheelchair, I was reminded why this establishment was relegated to simply a hang out spot for the Sharks and the Jets to settle a lower Manhattan feud.
However, nothing could make me more nostalgic than a meeting with garbage's career services, or in garbage's case, career disservices. My readership might be shocked that I would subject myself to such inhumane treatment, but truth be told, I made the rookie error of believing after many lengthy conversations, that the shithole from whence I came, might want to assist me in a quest for suitable employment. This was clearly an egregious error because after explaining to the DMV worker that I have done all one can possibly do in the hopes of becoming an attorney and was even willing to take her former post in traffic control, she gave me the following suggestions:
1. Change your email address: EUREKA! This makes perfect sense. I mean this entire time I have been using a combination of my first and middle name, next to my phone number and full name as my resume identity. I am sure firms were anything but amused when they saw such a careless effort on my part as everyone knows that employment is based solely on an email address and not the owner of that email address. I imagine firms were not aware of the fact that sometimes email addresses are not actually the emailer's actual name. This must have caused quite a bit of confusion. I can picture it now, just when they debated calling me in for an interview, they probably had a forty five minute debate as to whether or not they should call me Ms. Middle Name or Ms. Last name and then just said, "oh, let's just call the whole thing off."
2. Take out the Bullet Points from Your Resume: Just when I was hoping that one of the bullets that organized my resume would leap off the page and shoot me in the head, I learned that it would be by far better to simply take them out as my experience is not so extensive that it needs to be organized. This piece of advice was followed by a pamphlet of sample resumes from garbage that passed the DMV’s maitre d’s muster. Last night, I had the pleasure of flipping through this pamphlet and I dare say Suzie May's, John Doe's and Liza Purnell's resumes all thought that bullets were a grand idea. The one discrepancy I did notice from my fellow garbigites samples is that at the end of the resume they listed their skills: Proficient in Microsoft Word, Can Speak English & Literate.
3. Lower Your Standards: I guess that the DMV’s maitre d thought that my expectations were too high when I told her I was willing to work for the city. After a long discussion about not so much my desire, but indifference, to go work for a certain agency, she explained to me that this agency was awfully competitive and that with my credentials, I most certainly would have a tough time competing in this market. Thank you so much DMV extraordinaire who also graduated from garbage, but do you not think this is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black? I highly doubt that any self respecting human is considering working as an attorney for the government. Last time I checked there were not a series of Harvard Law Grads, despite their recent incentives, lining up outside the Department of Homeland Security desperate for employment. Given that I have in fact worked for the government, I am well aware that most of the "attorneys" eat dunkin' donuts until five o'clock and have arms and legs growing out of their moles. If I can not get a job there, well I am going to have to call it a day.
However, nothing could make me more nostalgic than a meeting with garbage's career services, or in garbage's case, career disservices. My readership might be shocked that I would subject myself to such inhumane treatment, but truth be told, I made the rookie error of believing after many lengthy conversations, that the shithole from whence I came, might want to assist me in a quest for suitable employment. This was clearly an egregious error because after explaining to the DMV worker that I have done all one can possibly do in the hopes of becoming an attorney and was even willing to take her former post in traffic control, she gave me the following suggestions:
1. Change your email address: EUREKA! This makes perfect sense. I mean this entire time I have been using a combination of my first and middle name, next to my phone number and full name as my resume identity. I am sure firms were anything but amused when they saw such a careless effort on my part as everyone knows that employment is based solely on an email address and not the owner of that email address. I imagine firms were not aware of the fact that sometimes email addresses are not actually the emailer's actual name. This must have caused quite a bit of confusion. I can picture it now, just when they debated calling me in for an interview, they probably had a forty five minute debate as to whether or not they should call me Ms. Middle Name or Ms. Last name and then just said, "oh, let's just call the whole thing off."
2. Take out the Bullet Points from Your Resume: Just when I was hoping that one of the bullets that organized my resume would leap off the page and shoot me in the head, I learned that it would be by far better to simply take them out as my experience is not so extensive that it needs to be organized. This piece of advice was followed by a pamphlet of sample resumes from garbage that passed the DMV’s maitre d’s muster. Last night, I had the pleasure of flipping through this pamphlet and I dare say Suzie May's, John Doe's and Liza Purnell's resumes all thought that bullets were a grand idea. The one discrepancy I did notice from my fellow garbigites samples is that at the end of the resume they listed their skills: Proficient in Microsoft Word, Can Speak English & Literate.
3. Lower Your Standards: I guess that the DMV’s maitre d thought that my expectations were too high when I told her I was willing to work for the city. After a long discussion about not so much my desire, but indifference, to go work for a certain agency, she explained to me that this agency was awfully competitive and that with my credentials, I most certainly would have a tough time competing in this market. Thank you so much DMV extraordinaire who also graduated from garbage, but do you not think this is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black? I highly doubt that any self respecting human is considering working as an attorney for the government. Last time I checked there were not a series of Harvard Law Grads, despite their recent incentives, lining up outside the Department of Homeland Security desperate for employment. Given that I have in fact worked for the government, I am well aware that most of the "attorneys" eat dunkin' donuts until five o'clock and have arms and legs growing out of their moles. If I can not get a job there, well I am going to have to call it a day.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Shattered Dreams
on another more serious note... The Hills return was a major disappointment for me and I couldnt as much pay attention to what was going on let alone be interested in the next episode. If you are going to write a script to a show, at least make an effort to not seem scripted (or, I dont know, get decent writers and good looking male counterparts).
Its not in the least exciting. Im sorry abc, nbc, fx, bravo, mtv, vh1, discovery channel, animal planet (okay maybe not animal planet, I do love the meerkats); but my life kicks your shows' ass (it doesn't need to be said, but that is neither a compliment nor an ego stroke on my end) & the cw is the only channel holding its own. And, FYI, the writers strike should have, if nothing else, given you PLENTY of time to watch the shit you were throwing at us the past year and realize you weren't looking so good.
Its not in the least exciting. Im sorry abc, nbc, fx, bravo, mtv, vh1, discovery channel, animal planet (okay maybe not animal planet, I do love the meerkats); but my life kicks your shows' ass (it doesn't need to be said, but that is neither a compliment nor an ego stroke on my end) & the cw is the only channel holding its own. And, FYI, the writers strike should have, if nothing else, given you PLENTY of time to watch the shit you were throwing at us the past year and realize you weren't looking so good.
Recipe For Disaster:
4 days AlcoholPack of Cigs
1 night of Illegal smoking
A handful of Ritalin
1 too many Adderall
Top off with more Alcohol
And add 7" heels
Combine all in one small female & let simmer over the weekend...
*picture is courtesy of my broken foot
Friday, March 21, 2008
Incentives
Some people are offended by the news because of the Bush administration, puppies being thrown over cliffs and/or a woman airline passenger who had a date on a plane that was not a match (okay, in my estimation that was a date).
I am offended by the news because of headlines like this:
"Harvard Law, Hoping Students Will Consider Public Service, Offers Tuition Break"
I mean, really. Am I supposed to think to myself, well thank bloody lord, those poor Harvard Law Students are being duly compensated for choosing to go into the public sector for a couple of years prior to being hounded by the Ropes & Gray where they will be paid back their tuition five times in one year?
I would just like to state for the record, that Garbage law students have no such incentive and we do not so much as choose to go into the public sector, as we are forced to go into the public sector. In fact, if this is the incentive being offered to Harvard Law students to go into the public sector, Garbage Law students should pretty much just be handed a Mercedes upon admission. News coverage of our admissions might read something like this:
"Garbage, Hoping Students Do Not Mind Working for the Department of Sanitation for life, Offers a Juris Doctorate and a Mercedes."
I am offended by the news because of headlines like this:
"Harvard Law, Hoping Students Will Consider Public Service, Offers Tuition Break"
I mean, really. Am I supposed to think to myself, well thank bloody lord, those poor Harvard Law Students are being duly compensated for choosing to go into the public sector for a couple of years prior to being hounded by the Ropes & Gray where they will be paid back their tuition five times in one year?
I would just like to state for the record, that Garbage law students have no such incentive and we do not so much as choose to go into the public sector, as we are forced to go into the public sector. In fact, if this is the incentive being offered to Harvard Law students to go into the public sector, Garbage Law students should pretty much just be handed a Mercedes upon admission. News coverage of our admissions might read something like this:
"Garbage, Hoping Students Do Not Mind Working for the Department of Sanitation for life, Offers a Juris Doctorate and a Mercedes."
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Who Am I?
Sometimes I wonder who I was before I maintained a professional journal. The answer is, I was nobody.
-C
-C
Monday, March 17, 2008
"Relationship Status"
While those of you are filling out compatibility tests on every relationship website Google can find you... I am aimlessly dolling out my phone number to the majority of Manhattan south of 25th st.
I am notoriously known by most of my close friends as a serial-first-dater; ie. I will go on a 1st date with anyone that can speak, walk, and is (as far as we know) male & into females. As much as I try to be selective with whom I pass out my contact info to, I can't help but always feel there is a chance that nearly every guy I meet could potentially not suck & be the man of my dreams.
Ofcourse this has resulted in numerous & quite hilarious 1st date stories - most of which will be shared once I feel warmed up to the idea of airing them for the nation (ok thats slightly dramatic seeing as tho we know everyone that reads this), but either way, I thought it would be best to start with the breakdown of my current roundup for 2008.
*Please keep in mind none of these have resulted in any sexual encounter you have after the age of 13 - yes, Im one wild woman...
Pls also note= I will refer to each Datees by a number (repeat of a number indicates a repeat with that datee)
January: (seems so far away... )
1 - Accidental overnight date on NYrs followed by a blurred morning hovered over his toilet and a 'cab of shame' home.
1 - After a shower & change of clothes (okay, I didn't shower but I febreezed & brushed my teeth) NYrs encounter takes me out for a hangover lunch.
2 - Pitty party of hope in a neighborhood bar resulted in an attempt to turn #2 into any sort of normal/decent kisser. Operation failed & aborted.
3 - Stood up/ditched by obviously lesser than equal man. Goes to bottom of the line - forever.
4 - Random emails from a Nov/Dec date gone crazy professing his craziness & his newly found prescription to control it.
February: (it was a very slow month)
5 - Wonderous Valentines date. Thought about proposing a runaway & beach life with him.
5 - Love of my life turns (is) a sleaze & tries date two. Location: his bedroom. Phone number has since been deleted (will discuss the need for speed with Manhattan men at a later date...).
March:
1 - Play possible armcandy role & love it. Definate potential for a regular appearance.
6 - After work gig meeting-> turns invite to dinner-> turns admittance into making less than the foreigner that washes the sidewalk across from my apartment-> turns baggage from past GF-> turns baggage from past GF & he had bought an apartment-> turns he lives in exterior Brooklyn-> turns end of story.
7 - 1/2 Blind date with great choice of restaurant & interesting life history, makes remarks about sex with an ex and proposes a pit stop to his place (*cough cough*).
8 - Was this a date? Invite to a concert where I bring along my brother & his friend... I buy my own drinks & my ticket & walk myself home... scratch that, this was most definately NOT a date.
1 - Bad movie & romantic dinner at a local college sports bar prove interestingly amusing & intriguing. Hmm...
Only 9 more months to go & a whole slew of numbers left... ;)
I am notoriously known by most of my close friends as a serial-first-dater; ie. I will go on a 1st date with anyone that can speak, walk, and is (as far as we know) male & into females. As much as I try to be selective with whom I pass out my contact info to, I can't help but always feel there is a chance that nearly every guy I meet could potentially not suck & be the man of my dreams.
Ofcourse this has resulted in numerous & quite hilarious 1st date stories - most of which will be shared once I feel warmed up to the idea of airing them for the nation (ok thats slightly dramatic seeing as tho we know everyone that reads this), but either way, I thought it would be best to start with the breakdown of my current roundup for 2008.
*Please keep in mind none of these have resulted in any sexual encounter you have after the age of 13 - yes, Im one wild woman...
Pls also note= I will refer to each Datees by a number (repeat of a number indicates a repeat with that datee)
January: (seems so far away... )
1 - Accidental overnight date on NYrs followed by a blurred morning hovered over his toilet and a 'cab of shame' home.
1 - After a shower & change of clothes (okay, I didn't shower but I febreezed & brushed my teeth) NYrs encounter takes me out for a hangover lunch.
2 - Pitty party of hope in a neighborhood bar resulted in an attempt to turn #2 into any sort of normal/decent kisser. Operation failed & aborted.
3 - Stood up/ditched by obviously lesser than equal man. Goes to bottom of the line - forever.
4 - Random emails from a Nov/Dec date gone crazy professing his craziness & his newly found prescription to control it.
February: (it was a very slow month)
5 - Wonderous Valentines date. Thought about proposing a runaway & beach life with him.
5 - Love of my life turns (is) a sleaze & tries date two. Location: his bedroom. Phone number has since been deleted (will discuss the need for speed with Manhattan men at a later date...).
March:
1 - Play possible armcandy role & love it. Definate potential for a regular appearance.
6 - After work gig meeting-> turns invite to dinner-> turns admittance into making less than the foreigner that washes the sidewalk across from my apartment-> turns baggage from past GF-> turns baggage from past GF & he had bought an apartment-> turns he lives in exterior Brooklyn-> turns end of story.
7 - 1/2 Blind date with great choice of restaurant & interesting life history, makes remarks about sex with an ex and proposes a pit stop to his place (*cough cough*).
8 - Was this a date? Invite to a concert where I bring along my brother & his friend... I buy my own drinks & my ticket & walk myself home... scratch that, this was most definately NOT a date.
1 - Bad movie & romantic dinner at a local college sports bar prove interestingly amusing & intriguing. Hmm...
Only 9 more months to go & a whole slew of numbers left... ;)
Uptown/Downtown??
I have always been told that the island of Manhattan is not as large as it seems. I have never really believed the more geographically conscious, as for a lazy sack of shit like myself, traversing any distance is quite a feat.
I now stand corrected. The island of Manhattan is quite small. So small that one can leave their previous toilet firm in midtown and interview at a totally different toilet all the way downtown only to have the realization that these two firms are in fact exactly the same. So similar, that upon entering this practice I practically had to do a double take of their "file clerk" who must have been my previous practice's "file clerk's" (W's) twin brother. While I had thought I had said goodbye to W several months ago after months of seeing him walking around with his head phones on, not responding to requests because he was on a three hour lunch breaks and rapping to a song with the lyrics "if i don't get what i want to night, i am going to kill someone tonight," I ran into a version of W at shithole South.
Post interview, I quickly called Atticus Finch to tell him about my humorous interview in the hopes that we would have a little chuckle. Just for the record AF, the next time I call you and tell you that I have interviewed at a dump whose head partner has never heard of Ernest Hemingway, you should say something like "gee, better luck next time C. As a contributor to the arts you surely can not work at a firm where the head partner has never heard of Ernest Hemingway" You do not have a long pause on the telephone and then say "I am just beginning to wonder where it is you are going to work."
I now stand corrected. The island of Manhattan is quite small. So small that one can leave their previous toilet firm in midtown and interview at a totally different toilet all the way downtown only to have the realization that these two firms are in fact exactly the same. So similar, that upon entering this practice I practically had to do a double take of their "file clerk" who must have been my previous practice's "file clerk's" (W's) twin brother. While I had thought I had said goodbye to W several months ago after months of seeing him walking around with his head phones on, not responding to requests because he was on a three hour lunch breaks and rapping to a song with the lyrics "if i don't get what i want to night, i am going to kill someone tonight," I ran into a version of W at shithole South.
Post interview, I quickly called Atticus Finch to tell him about my humorous interview in the hopes that we would have a little chuckle. Just for the record AF, the next time I call you and tell you that I have interviewed at a dump whose head partner has never heard of Ernest Hemingway, you should say something like "gee, better luck next time C. As a contributor to the arts you surely can not work at a firm where the head partner has never heard of Ernest Hemingway" You do not have a long pause on the telephone and then say "I am just beginning to wonder where it is you are going to work."
Anyhow, AF, I just wanted to tell you that I TOO AM WONDERING WHERE IN BLOODY HELL I AM GOING TO WORK. In fact, my entire ten minute therapy session was dedicated to thinking of places of future employment. Because I believe my readership responds particularly well to float charts, I am going to use my previous practice as a point of comparison to my aspirational practice:
At my old Practice:
-I had a file clerk who was involved in drive by shootings.
-I worked for a slew of partners who walked around with their pants falling off.
-I was sexually harassed prior to being distributed an assignment, which actually made me feel relatively good about myself.
-My opposing counsel had advertisements on the subway. I am fairly certain that their offices were also on the subway.
-I rode the Staten Island Ferry on a regular basis. So much so, that we scheduled our court appearance to take place in the lower compartment.
-A list of the best medical malpractice firms were listed in the the ABA journal. All medical malpractice firms were listed except my designated toilet.
Aspirational Practice:
-I am not asked to be my own file clerk because our hired file clerk who makes the same salary as I do can not do his job because he does not feel like it.
-The partners are capable of dressing themselves in the morning. That means, ALL BUTTONS are closed and their pants are situated above their waists.
-I am only sexually harassed by humans.
-The lawyers who appear in opposing counsel's ads on the subway are not smiling with only three teeth because someone colored in the rest of their mouths with a magic marker.
-I make court appearances at actual court houses.
-The firm is not only capable of being listed in the ABA journal, but maintains a website.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Rejection Comes in All Shapes & Sizes
I was shocked to receive a phone call from M explaining that our family prescriber (as in M&M's therapist) was retiring, thereby forcing me to make appointments with a personal doctor if I needed a prescription. I knew this was not true because our family prescriber would have to be insane to retire when he treats a gold mine such as my parents. Additionally, if he was retiring, M would be crushed and I would have to hear from her as much as I heard from her before she commenced her novel. Regardless, it only took a few minutes for me to get to the bottom of this lie.
Just as I suspected, this was a scheme that M&M employed to force their single 27 middle aged daughter into therapy. Our family provider had no intentions of retiring and was even planning on practicing postmortem if our family still existed. When I finally called M&M out on their atrocious plan, they broke down and admitted that it was true. However, I was very lucky because my intimacy issues were about to be solved on account of their therapist providing a referral, a male psychologist.
Now, presumably my readership might be boggled with the same question that bemused this spinster: "Why, M&M, would you subject your pathetic daughter to therapy sessions with a male psychologist to talk about her intimacy issues?" Without so much as a pause, M explained that I seemingly had no problems with fooling women into liking me. For, I have plenty of female friends who are drastically out of my league in that they are all happily in relationships. HOWEVER, undoubtedly, I have not been able to fool a man into liking me. This all translates into me needing a male psychologist, of course. Perhaps if I practiced talking to a male on a regular basis and convinced him that I was likable, I could translate this into my dating activity.
OKAY, so M&M, last night I had an appointment with this wonderful referral and I wanted to inform you that I am not in fact cured. Much to my dismay, this psychologist substantiated your proposed theory; there is no way I can fool men into liking me, not even the ones I pay to like me, like me. I feel much the same way client number nine must have felt after some of his more expensive trysts; except I was none too lucky to get my full service. This in fact resembled most of my interactions with men. Why, just forty minutes in, our date was over. And after I paid him 12090876 dollars, he quickly dismissed me and told me not to speak to you people for the week as an assignment.
He did not EVEN PROPOSE.
-C
Just as I suspected, this was a scheme that M&M employed to force their single 27 middle aged daughter into therapy. Our family provider had no intentions of retiring and was even planning on practicing postmortem if our family still existed. When I finally called M&M out on their atrocious plan, they broke down and admitted that it was true. However, I was very lucky because my intimacy issues were about to be solved on account of their therapist providing a referral, a male psychologist.
Now, presumably my readership might be boggled with the same question that bemused this spinster: "Why, M&M, would you subject your pathetic daughter to therapy sessions with a male psychologist to talk about her intimacy issues?" Without so much as a pause, M explained that I seemingly had no problems with fooling women into liking me. For, I have plenty of female friends who are drastically out of my league in that they are all happily in relationships. HOWEVER, undoubtedly, I have not been able to fool a man into liking me. This all translates into me needing a male psychologist, of course. Perhaps if I practiced talking to a male on a regular basis and convinced him that I was likable, I could translate this into my dating activity.
OKAY, so M&M, last night I had an appointment with this wonderful referral and I wanted to inform you that I am not in fact cured. Much to my dismay, this psychologist substantiated your proposed theory; there is no way I can fool men into liking me, not even the ones I pay to like me, like me. I feel much the same way client number nine must have felt after some of his more expensive trysts; except I was none too lucky to get my full service. This in fact resembled most of my interactions with men. Why, just forty minutes in, our date was over. And after I paid him 12090876 dollars, he quickly dismissed me and told me not to speak to you people for the week as an assignment.
He did not EVEN PROPOSE.
-C
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Dear Associate
In my daily Craig's list quest for a job, I came across this posting:
"I am currently finishing my final year of law school. I am seeking a post-graduate position in Manhattan. I have strong academic cRUDEntials and have received several job offers on Long Island, but I am searching for something in New York City. I am primarily interested in securities law, bankruptcy, and estate planning. I would be willing to work as a paralegal for a year to prove myself at a large firm. If you have any advice or would like a copy of my resume please e-mail me. Thank you."
Dear Desperate Asswipe,
You misspelled credentials. But, this might be a Freudian slip on your part. Judging by your description, your actual credentials could in fact be considered "rude," "crude" or offensive. I mean really, if your primary job offer is in Long Island, I take it that your secondary offer is not going to be at Skadden.
Even if one of these firms were to hire a paralegal with the agenda of turning him/her into an attorney, I highly doubt they are scouting the same section as some lowly soda can, such as myself, to do their hiring. HELLO, they do on campus recruiting. They even did on campus recruiting at Garbage which means they surely did on campus recruiting from whatever shit hole you are about to receive your Juris Doctorate. AND NO, those who were lucky enough to get an interview, a step above the rest of us sprite cans (perhaps a Pierre Bottle), did not go into the interview with the intention of bargaining with them for an offer. What are you going to say?
"Ahh, yes Wachtell, I have an offer from a personal injury firm in Long Island for $45,000. Let's open up the negotiations."
So here is my suggestion, take one of the bloody offers in Long Island and then recycle yourself.
-C
"I am currently finishing my final year of law school. I am seeking a post-graduate position in Manhattan. I have strong academic cRUDEntials and have received several job offers on Long Island, but I am searching for something in New York City. I am primarily interested in securities law, bankruptcy, and estate planning. I would be willing to work as a paralegal for a year to prove myself at a large firm. If you have any advice or would like a copy of my resume please e-mail me. Thank you."
Dear Desperate Asswipe,
You misspelled credentials. But, this might be a Freudian slip on your part. Judging by your description, your actual credentials could in fact be considered "rude," "crude" or offensive. I mean really, if your primary job offer is in Long Island, I take it that your secondary offer is not going to be at Skadden.
Even if one of these firms were to hire a paralegal with the agenda of turning him/her into an attorney, I highly doubt they are scouting the same section as some lowly soda can, such as myself, to do their hiring. HELLO, they do on campus recruiting. They even did on campus recruiting at Garbage which means they surely did on campus recruiting from whatever shit hole you are about to receive your Juris Doctorate. AND NO, those who were lucky enough to get an interview, a step above the rest of us sprite cans (perhaps a Pierre Bottle), did not go into the interview with the intention of bargaining with them for an offer. What are you going to say?
"Ahh, yes Wachtell, I have an offer from a personal injury firm in Long Island for $45,000. Let's open up the negotiations."
So here is my suggestion, take one of the bloody offers in Long Island and then recycle yourself.
-C
Let Me Clear Up the Confusion.
Today, I was partially flattered, but primarily suicidal, when I was informed by a staffing agency that I did not make the cut for a Contract Coordinator position. The grounds for this rejection was that the company that had received my resume could not believe that I would not want to go elsewhere with my credentials.
Well, this blog will stand as a formal clarification. I have nowhere else to go.
Well, this blog will stand as a formal clarification. I have nowhere else to go.
Monday, March 10, 2008
E-Harmony
Thank you M&M for our lovely conversation yesterday wherein I was told that the only way I was going to get married was if I joined EHarmony.com. This is similar to all of your previous logic, that because you have heard of one couple meeting in a specific way, all couples meet in this specific way.
Why I am well aware that I failed the LSATs, I am also aware that there are several problems with this logic. So here is what I am going to do for you M&M. I am going to set up your proposition against a set of analogical propositions to see if perhaps you can see the error in your thought processes. If you can not, then I will know for sure to blame my poor standardized test taking skills on you in addition to all of my other failures.
Statement: We heard of one couple meeting on E-Harmony.Com.
Proposition: All couples meet on E-Harmony.com.
Conclusion: C should become a member of E-Harmony.com or she surely will die alone.
Please select the statement/proposition/conclusion below that resembles this logic.
1. Statement: We once saw a movie where a tall red headed prostitute in Hollywood met a client, who turned out to be the man of her dreams.
Proposition: All tall red heads meet their husbands through prostitution.
Conclusion: C, a tall red head, should become a prostitute or she surely will die alone.
2. Statement Two: Our cousin D, who if possible was dumber than C, went to law school and
managed to land herself a husband.
Why I am well aware that I failed the LSATs, I am also aware that there are several problems with this logic. So here is what I am going to do for you M&M. I am going to set up your proposition against a set of analogical propositions to see if perhaps you can see the error in your thought processes. If you can not, then I will know for sure to blame my poor standardized test taking skills on you in addition to all of my other failures.
Statement: We heard of one couple meeting on E-Harmony.Com.
Proposition: All couples meet on E-Harmony.com.
Conclusion: C should become a member of E-Harmony.com or she surely will die alone.
Please select the statement/proposition/conclusion below that resembles this logic.
1. Statement: We once saw a movie where a tall red headed prostitute in Hollywood met a client, who turned out to be the man of her dreams.
Proposition: All tall red heads meet their husbands through prostitution.
Conclusion: C, a tall red head, should become a prostitute or she surely will die alone.
2. Statement Two: Our cousin D, who if possible was dumber than C, went to law school and
managed to land herself a husband.
- Sub-Proposition One: All girls brighter than D can go to law school.
- Sub-Proposition Two: All girls meet their husbands at law school.
Conclusion: C, a girl slightly brighter than D, should go to law school otherwise she surely will die alone.
3. Statement Three: M met her husband, the lovely M squared, by virtue of throwing a series of anonymous doctor parties where she was the only female.
- Sub-Proposition One: The daughter of M, C, can not compete with other females.
- Sub-Proposition Two: Girls who throw anonymous parties where they are the only females will not be perceived as desperate and f*ckin crazy.
- Sub-Proposition Three: Successful, good looking I-bankers will attend a party thrown by an anonymous host.
Conclusion: C must throw anonymous I-banker parties otherwise she will surely die alone.
4. Statement Four: Women in Imperial China had their feet bound at age six and then were successfully married.
Proposition: It is worth having your feet bound in order to wed.
Conclusion: C, a girl who suffers from peasant feet, should get her feet bound or she will die alone.
True or False
T or F: People blog about other people because their lives aren't interesting enough to constantly talk about?
"How to spend all your money so you can't afford to eat" March 10th-27th
In an attempt to regularly cut calories & refresh my closet for the upcoming spring season, I will be replacing each days allotment of food money with a fabulous new spring wardrobe piece. March 10th-27th will be replaced with these lovely Tashkent peeptoe booties.
Pls see breakdown of payment as follows:
Breakfast: Bagel & Juice= $3.00
Lunch: Soup & Salad= $8.00
Dinner: ?=$20.00
Total for the day $31.00
Subtract total cost of boots: appr. $525.00
Payment will be equivalent to 17 days without food.
Should also result in a drop of appr. 6 pounds.
Lovely.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Bridging the Gap
Today, I had the good fortune of opening my email and noting that garbage’s career services had reached out to me inviting me to reconnect with some of the community. Please see subject line below:
“CELEBRATING OUR PAST BY CONNECTING WITH OUR COMMUNITY”
While I have no plans of attending my alma matta’s pathetic show of a dinner, I can not help but imagine what this function resembles for the sake of research:
http://img.alibaba.com/photo/10852889/Schweppes_Soda_Cans_Bottles.jpg
That being said, as a tribute to garbage I am going to make a list of what our community has to celebrate:
THANK YOU GARBAGE FOR THE FOLLOWING:
1. Recruiting me. Why, I believe it was the day after I took the LSATs when some Jehovah’s witness stopped by my dorm room in the middle of Ohio and handed me a pamphlet of all that garbage has to offer. The pamphlet made it clear that garbage had some of the best government connections in the nation.
2. Forcing Me to Pass the Bar on My First Try: It is with great pleasure that I announce that garbage’s passing rate has gone up from 10% to 45%. Part of the reason is that garbage students are not allowed to take any electives. In fact, I studied for the bar for a year and a half and took a mini bar on a weekly basis. While many other law students had the misfortune of passing the bar on the first time after just studying for three months post graduation, I was very lucky to have passed the bar multiple times before I even graduated.
3. Providing me with a study space: Thank you for providing me with the wonderful opportunity to study in a government owned building on the 13-20th floor for a year because you decided that a law school did not need a library. This was a really good way to acclimatize some of your brighter students to their future. They ended up on working on floors 1-12 post graduation.
4. Providing me with a B minus curve: In the event that I ever dreamed of having a future post graduation, it sounds really awesome to employers when you have to explain why you were not able to get all As from a school that they could not believe is even recognized by the ABA let alone distributes grades
.
5. Inspiring Me With The Desire to Continue My Legal Education: This week I am “Bridging the Gap” which I had the sincere privilege of paying out of pocket because I do not work at a firm who would pay for my eager learning mind, let alone a firm for that matter. I am so happy to maintain a license that has gotten less activity than my driver’s license since I moved to Manhattan. My Juris Doctorate means more to me than the four hundred dollars I will have to pay to go to the course, let alone the six hundred dollars I will not make as an hourly paid employee, to learn about a profession which I am entirely not a part of. Was it not just the other day I made the mistake of lifting my laundry bag and jostling my degree’s careful placement above my cable box and said to myself “C, it is high time you frame this and hang it above your not even cubicle where you offer your “consulting services?” I sure hope that after I finish learning about trial practice and ethical rules which I will never get to implement, the CLE department will “bridge the gap” between me and the rest of professional community: Please see the link below:
http://www.familyvacationco.com/LA2Grand/grand_canyon.jpg
“CELEBRATING OUR PAST BY CONNECTING WITH OUR COMMUNITY”
While I have no plans of attending my alma matta’s pathetic show of a dinner, I can not help but imagine what this function resembles for the sake of research:
http://img.alibaba.com/photo/10852889/Schweppes_Soda_Cans_Bottles.jpg
That being said, as a tribute to garbage I am going to make a list of what our community has to celebrate:
THANK YOU GARBAGE FOR THE FOLLOWING:
1. Recruiting me. Why, I believe it was the day after I took the LSATs when some Jehovah’s witness stopped by my dorm room in the middle of Ohio and handed me a pamphlet of all that garbage has to offer. The pamphlet made it clear that garbage had some of the best government connections in the nation.
2. Forcing Me to Pass the Bar on My First Try: It is with great pleasure that I announce that garbage’s passing rate has gone up from 10% to 45%. Part of the reason is that garbage students are not allowed to take any electives. In fact, I studied for the bar for a year and a half and took a mini bar on a weekly basis. While many other law students had the misfortune of passing the bar on the first time after just studying for three months post graduation, I was very lucky to have passed the bar multiple times before I even graduated.
3. Providing me with a study space: Thank you for providing me with the wonderful opportunity to study in a government owned building on the 13-20th floor for a year because you decided that a law school did not need a library. This was a really good way to acclimatize some of your brighter students to their future. They ended up on working on floors 1-12 post graduation.
4. Providing me with a B minus curve: In the event that I ever dreamed of having a future post graduation, it sounds really awesome to employers when you have to explain why you were not able to get all As from a school that they could not believe is even recognized by the ABA let alone distributes grades
.
5. Inspiring Me With The Desire to Continue My Legal Education: This week I am “Bridging the Gap” which I had the sincere privilege of paying out of pocket because I do not work at a firm who would pay for my eager learning mind, let alone a firm for that matter. I am so happy to maintain a license that has gotten less activity than my driver’s license since I moved to Manhattan. My Juris Doctorate means more to me than the four hundred dollars I will have to pay to go to the course, let alone the six hundred dollars I will not make as an hourly paid employee, to learn about a profession which I am entirely not a part of. Was it not just the other day I made the mistake of lifting my laundry bag and jostling my degree’s careful placement above my cable box and said to myself “C, it is high time you frame this and hang it above your not even cubicle where you offer your “consulting services?” I sure hope that after I finish learning about trial practice and ethical rules which I will never get to implement, the CLE department will “bridge the gap” between me and the rest of professional community: Please see the link below:
http://www.familyvacationco.com/LA2Grand/grand_canyon.jpg
Friday, March 7, 2008
True or False
T or F: 6 months without sex is the same as 2 days without sex?
And moreover, unless you are currently having sex, or just had sex 5 mins ago, any time without sex feels the same. You are NOT getting off, you are NOT being pleasured, you are NOT passing Go. End of story.
And moreover, unless you are currently having sex, or just had sex 5 mins ago, any time without sex feels the same. You are NOT getting off, you are NOT being pleasured, you are NOT passing Go. End of story.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
I am not Fluent in Japanese
My standard morning consists of making a cup of coffee from the Flavia machine, reviewing one contract and then searching for a job for three hours on Craig's list. While most lawyers can obtain employment without the assistance of a job database, let alone, monster, career builder and/or indeed.com, I have been instructed by toilet to actually utilize Craig's list in addition to my quest for an apartment and missed connections to obtain suitable employment.
This morning I stumbled across this listing which I think warrants in depth discussion:
"Attorneys Fluent in Japanese Wanted!!!"
While I have no doubt that there is a market for attorneys who are fluent in foreign languages, I take particular issue with attorneys fluent in Japanese competing in my pool. This is not because I am a bigot; it is simply because attorneys who are fluent in Japanese do not need to be searching on Craig's list for a job. Attorneys who are fluent in Japanese are also the high school students who were fluent in Japanese who had to tutor some of my friends who were not fluent in English in math and science. Attorneys who are fluent in Japanese did not fail the LSATs. (I have been told it is not possible to fail the LSATs, but I beg to differ).
A career advisor (not that I have one as you well know my career services has rejected me in addition to the rest of Manhattan) might point out:
Non-existent career advisor: Well C, you are not fluent in Japanese. Therefore what difference does it make if someone who is fluent in this language applies for the job?
My Reply: Thank you non existent career advisor. While I am not in fact fluent in Japanese, I did apply for this job because I apply for all jobs.
This morning I stumbled across this listing which I think warrants in depth discussion:
"Attorneys Fluent in Japanese Wanted!!!"
While I have no doubt that there is a market for attorneys who are fluent in foreign languages, I take particular issue with attorneys fluent in Japanese competing in my pool. This is not because I am a bigot; it is simply because attorneys who are fluent in Japanese do not need to be searching on Craig's list for a job. Attorneys who are fluent in Japanese are also the high school students who were fluent in Japanese who had to tutor some of my friends who were not fluent in English in math and science. Attorneys who are fluent in Japanese did not fail the LSATs. (I have been told it is not possible to fail the LSATs, but I beg to differ).
A career advisor (not that I have one as you well know my career services has rejected me in addition to the rest of Manhattan) might point out:
Non-existent career advisor: Well C, you are not fluent in Japanese. Therefore what difference does it make if someone who is fluent in this language applies for the job?
My Reply: Thank you non existent career advisor. While I am not in fact fluent in Japanese, I did apply for this job because I apply for all jobs.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Servicing a Career
I was all too pleased to hear from my altruistic brother, Atticus Finch, in his efforts to help his pathetic little sister find a job until he made the suggestion that I call my career services. I simply hung up the phone and then decided to act on his suggestion behind his back.
Not for nothing AF, but your younger sibling's career services has been dormant since Mount Vesuvius. In an effort to illuminate this point, I will rehash the unilateral conversations I had with career services the past two days.
"Hello, my name is big f*ckin failure, I graduated in May, 2006 and I am still a big f*9ckn failure. Please call me back."-March 4, 9:30 AM
"Hello, my name is "I graduated from your toilet in May, 2006" and have failed to obtain any type of useful employment. Oh yeah, it’s March, 2008. Please call me back." March 5, 2008, 9:30 AM.
I think I will call back tomorrow morning AF.
Not for nothing AF, but your younger sibling's career services has been dormant since Mount Vesuvius. In an effort to illuminate this point, I will rehash the unilateral conversations I had with career services the past two days.
"Hello, my name is big f*ckin failure, I graduated in May, 2006 and I am still a big f*9ckn failure. Please call me back."-March 4, 9:30 AM
"Hello, my name is "I graduated from your toilet in May, 2006" and have failed to obtain any type of useful employment. Oh yeah, it’s March, 2008. Please call me back." March 5, 2008, 9:30 AM.
I think I will call back tomorrow morning AF.
From Panty Flasher to Prude in approximately 1hr & 50mins
Hypothetical: Promiscuous and fun loving girl occupies her time by having fun with boys & entering home-made bikini contests.
Slightly slutty and ready to move onto brighter and more successful ventures: she packs her suitcases full of tight dresses, stripper stilettos, and low cut tops; hops a plane to NYC. Upon arrival she notices the overly understated/covered up dress of many NYC women and finds herself in compromising positions due to her choice of apparel.
Quickly her tops are covered with cardigans, her dresses are packed away in hiding and she becomes more and more "typical" NYC girl.
Unfortunately with this new confused outlook on how to dress (or not dress) in this big city, she also finds herself confused with the prospect of meeting and dating NYC guys.
Pre-NY night out: Girl gets overly encased in a bottle of vodka & starts challenging random bar goers to tequila shot contests. Girl chooses one "lucky" bar goer as her crush of the night & manages to a)makeout with him at the bar, b)take him home, c)make sure she goes home with him... And repeat, repeat throughout the year.
This new city life however has drawn many a question about the motive of city men. Specifically the lack of control Girl now has over her ability to call the shots. As most city men seem to have a deadline for everything, including choosing a,b, or c for you. This lack of control of yet another decision in her life dramatically effects her outlook and sends her into a complete state of Prude.
The Panty Flasher of Ohio is now the Prude in the city.
Slightly slutty and ready to move onto brighter and more successful ventures: she packs her suitcases full of tight dresses, stripper stilettos, and low cut tops; hops a plane to NYC. Upon arrival she notices the overly understated/covered up dress of many NYC women and finds herself in compromising positions due to her choice of apparel.
Quickly her tops are covered with cardigans, her dresses are packed away in hiding and she becomes more and more "typical" NYC girl.
Unfortunately with this new confused outlook on how to dress (or not dress) in this big city, she also finds herself confused with the prospect of meeting and dating NYC guys.
Pre-NY night out: Girl gets overly encased in a bottle of vodka & starts challenging random bar goers to tequila shot contests. Girl chooses one "lucky" bar goer as her crush of the night & manages to a)makeout with him at the bar, b)take him home, c)make sure she goes home with him... And repeat, repeat throughout the year.
This new city life however has drawn many a question about the motive of city men. Specifically the lack of control Girl now has over her ability to call the shots. As most city men seem to have a deadline for everything, including choosing a,b, or c for you. This lack of control of yet another decision in her life dramatically effects her outlook and sends her into a complete state of Prude.
The Panty Flasher of Ohio is now the Prude in the city.
Married in Paperback
I was initially amused when my crazy mother (M) told me that she was going to write a modern gothic novel where I would serve as the beautiful heroine. I was even more amused when she told me that because I could not get married in the real world, I must get married in paperback. This was all very funny for my friends and I to imagine my deranged mother sitting around handwriting a novel because she did not know how to use a computer.
All of this was quite charming until I was blessed with a private reading this weekend. On Sunday morning (circa 3 PM), I was awoken by a typical phone call wherein my father (M squared) served as a puppet for M to relay the importance of being married by age 30, let alone the importance of being earnest. Just when I was ready to hang up, I heard the all too familiar voice of M who rarely comes to the phone since she has been absorbed in authoring the next "Time Traveler’s Wife." She proceeded to tell me that in addition to writing me " the loveliest sex scene," she was going to divulge her first chapter.I will not spill all the details, but I will say this much.
The heroine of the novel is described in the following manner:"A fallen sparrow who is just shy of 27 with mud colored eyes and possesses one good feature; her hair. She is unmarried with no prospects." At this point, I was forced to interject and ask why M would describe me in such a disparaging manner. She explained that she could not describe me as a beauty for fear that her readership would become envious. That argument might hold up in court except that my sister in law is described as the next Catherine Zeta Jones. The more compelling argument was that this fictionalized character was not in fact me, but was a fictionalized character.
All of this was quite charming until I was blessed with a private reading this weekend. On Sunday morning (circa 3 PM), I was awoken by a typical phone call wherein my father (M squared) served as a puppet for M to relay the importance of being married by age 30, let alone the importance of being earnest. Just when I was ready to hang up, I heard the all too familiar voice of M who rarely comes to the phone since she has been absorbed in authoring the next "Time Traveler’s Wife." She proceeded to tell me that in addition to writing me " the loveliest sex scene," she was going to divulge her first chapter.I will not spill all the details, but I will say this much.
The heroine of the novel is described in the following manner:"A fallen sparrow who is just shy of 27 with mud colored eyes and possesses one good feature; her hair. She is unmarried with no prospects." At this point, I was forced to interject and ask why M would describe me in such a disparaging manner. She explained that she could not describe me as a beauty for fear that her readership would become envious. That argument might hold up in court except that my sister in law is described as the next Catherine Zeta Jones. The more compelling argument was that this fictionalized character was not in fact me, but was a fictionalized character.
I now will ask my readership to make the determination as to whether or not this character was fiction or fact. In doing so, I will draw up a vertical comparison:
Fictionalized Me:
-Is Just Shy of 27 when her brother got married
-Gets her red locks dyed at a place called X
-Graduated from law school, but only sort of has a job
-Lives in a one bedroom conversion with her best friend from law school, E
-Has Eyes the color of mud
-Possesses the nick name C
-Is Unwed
-Has No Prospects
-Is Just Shy of 27 when her brother got married
-Gets her red locks dyed at a place called X
-Graduated from law school, but only sort of has a job
-Lives in a one bedroom conversion with her best friend from law school, E
-Has Eyes the color of mud
-Possesses the nick name C
-Is Unwed
-Has No Prospects
Me:
-Was Just Shy of 27 when her brother got married
-Gets her red locks dyed at a place called X
-Graduated from law school, but only sort of has a job
-Lives in a one bedroom conversion with her best friend from law school, E
-Has Eyes the color of mud
-Possesses the nick name C
-Is Unwed
-Has No Prospects
-Was Just Shy of 27 when her brother got married
-Gets her red locks dyed at a place called X
-Graduated from law school, but only sort of has a job
-Lives in a one bedroom conversion with her best friend from law school, E
-Has Eyes the color of mud
-Possesses the nick name C
-Is Unwed
-Has No Prospects
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Death Be Not Proud
Co-Counsel just asked me if she was entitled to worker's compensation in the event that a box from which we extract our labor were to fall on her head and render her unconscious and/or dead. I thought about it, and here is my answer:
1. You are not an employee of this Hell, but were hired by a staffing agency that loses your pay check on a weekly basis.
2. You are not entitled to a paid vacation, health insurance or even a lunch hour. What makes you think that you or your loved ones are entitled to any form of compensation in the event that said object injures you.
3. You are an attorney doing database entry at a publishing company. You should be less concerned about what happens in the event of your death and just hope that the death happens.
1. You are not an employee of this Hell, but were hired by a staffing agency that loses your pay check on a weekly basis.
2. You are not entitled to a paid vacation, health insurance or even a lunch hour. What makes you think that you or your loved ones are entitled to any form of compensation in the event that said object injures you.
3. You are an attorney doing database entry at a publishing company. You should be less concerned about what happens in the event of your death and just hope that the death happens.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Consultant
You can imagine my complete state of shock when a girlfriend of mine decided to seek out my advice regarding her match.com profile/strategy. I suppose by virtue of being such a dating failure, I have grown into an expert of sorts on dating. In other words, if I were a success, I would have less experience with these sites and/or meeting a douche bag for a drink every other Wednesday night. In fact, I would have no experience at all. While my girlfriends who are happily wed, engaged or in a relationship, I am quite unhappily motoring around facing the dating underdogs on a bimonthly basis.
The purpose of this blog, however, is not to spill the foundations of my heavy cross to bear. It is in fact to share some of my Internet dating techniques.
1. You Can Always Judge a Book By Its Cover:
In a series of six photos, odds are not in your favor if five out of six are in fact decent. If one of those photos makes the gentleman in question look like a total troll, he is in fact a total troll. Make no mistake ladies, this is not so much a question of bad photo shopping techniques/poor angles/stressful day at work, the troll who you are waiting to RSVP to your wine binge is not George Clooney. He is a turtle. In order to reassure that you do not make this god awful mistake, I will point to a simple piece of logic (because I am in fact a member of the New York State Bar I can do this with an air of authority). Men are not that much less vain than women. When creating their profile, they went through the same configuring process you did-they put their best looking face forward. If one of these photos is one of their best faces, well call a bloody plastic surgeon and do not call him By the same token, if the subject in question only has posted one photo, do not reach out to this lonesome soloist. If they could only find one photo that makes them look remotely human, it is not because they are not photogenic. It is in fact because they are subhuman.
2. You Have Friends and Hopefully You Like Them:
I am not going to go through the countless times I have read through retards’ descriptions and thought to myself “well good for you slime, you have friends and you like to hang out with them.” If you put “I like hanging out with my friends” under “my likes” you deserve to remain unwed.
If you are on Internet dating (which agreed countless very attractive, spontaneous and intelligent people are, including moi), you are a dating real life failure. You need the Internet, something that has only existed for about twenty years, to assist you in finding a mate. What would you have done before the Internet? You would have died completely and utterly alone. Bear in mind, for every attractive girl who is on these sites there are ten unattractive male losers who lead a lonely and depressing life. And, if the reader is worth merely a drink on him, he will pick up on this and hit the ex box above your name so he will no longer have to view you in his quest for a mate.
3. Your Boyfriend Should Speak English if he Speaks English:
Ladies, because you are literate, read the bloke’s profile before reaching out to him. If English is his first language and he can not abide by simple grammar rules, he does not in fact speak the Kings and Queens English. What he does speak is one of these three things:
1. Staten Island English;
2. G.E.D. English; or
3. I can not read English
I am going to explain to you why this is a problem. When you are invited to a dinner party thrown by your friend and her very successful stock broker, doctor, etc. husband, and someone asks your gent to pass the wine, he will say something like this “Here is the Peanut No Ear” (phonetic translation for Pinot Noir).
The purpose of this blog, however, is not to spill the foundations of my heavy cross to bear. It is in fact to share some of my Internet dating techniques.
1. You Can Always Judge a Book By Its Cover:
In a series of six photos, odds are not in your favor if five out of six are in fact decent. If one of those photos makes the gentleman in question look like a total troll, he is in fact a total troll. Make no mistake ladies, this is not so much a question of bad photo shopping techniques/poor angles/stressful day at work, the troll who you are waiting to RSVP to your wine binge is not George Clooney. He is a turtle. In order to reassure that you do not make this god awful mistake, I will point to a simple piece of logic (because I am in fact a member of the New York State Bar I can do this with an air of authority). Men are not that much less vain than women. When creating their profile, they went through the same configuring process you did-they put their best looking face forward. If one of these photos is one of their best faces, well call a bloody plastic surgeon and do not call him By the same token, if the subject in question only has posted one photo, do not reach out to this lonesome soloist. If they could only find one photo that makes them look remotely human, it is not because they are not photogenic. It is in fact because they are subhuman.
2. You Have Friends and Hopefully You Like Them:
I am not going to go through the countless times I have read through retards’ descriptions and thought to myself “well good for you slime, you have friends and you like to hang out with them.” If you put “I like hanging out with my friends” under “my likes” you deserve to remain unwed.
If you are on Internet dating (which agreed countless very attractive, spontaneous and intelligent people are, including moi), you are a dating real life failure. You need the Internet, something that has only existed for about twenty years, to assist you in finding a mate. What would you have done before the Internet? You would have died completely and utterly alone. Bear in mind, for every attractive girl who is on these sites there are ten unattractive male losers who lead a lonely and depressing life. And, if the reader is worth merely a drink on him, he will pick up on this and hit the ex box above your name so he will no longer have to view you in his quest for a mate.
3. Your Boyfriend Should Speak English if he Speaks English:
Ladies, because you are literate, read the bloke’s profile before reaching out to him. If English is his first language and he can not abide by simple grammar rules, he does not in fact speak the Kings and Queens English. What he does speak is one of these three things:
1. Staten Island English;
2. G.E.D. English; or
3. I can not read English
I am going to explain to you why this is a problem. When you are invited to a dinner party thrown by your friend and her very successful stock broker, doctor, etc. husband, and someone asks your gent to pass the wine, he will say something like this “Here is the Peanut No Ear” (phonetic translation for Pinot Noir).
Less than An Attorney
I quit my job at a "small litigation practice" aka "insurance defense firm" and commenced a document review position through a legal staffing agency. While I was a litigation associate/plumber at my previous "practice," I was convinced that my life could not possibly get any worse. It turns out it can. If you are reading this blog, I will not tolerate any counter-veiling arguments that a Juris Doctorate from a third tier law school is useful and that there are many career paths that you can pursue.
Look, the secret is out. You graduated from a garbage dump and to add insult to your injury, you will end up in a penitentiary where you might as well shamefully wear your LSAT score stamped on your forehead and say "I deserve this." The truth is, you do. I mean what in God's name did you think was going to happen after spending $120,000 to go to a law school that is unaffiliated with any undergraduate institution and is free standing in the wasteland? Did you think you were going to Skadden??? Or rather did you think that Cravath was merging with the toilet firm that you work for above Dunkin Donuts?
You must hear me out when I tell you that if some staffing agency calls you and tells you that you will be working a 58 hour work week with only a 45 minute lunch break, for twenty some odd dollars an hour, in an office above a KFC with no windows, internet or bathrooms, they are not kidding. They did not tell you this simply because they were having a bad day or because you slept with their boyfriend. They are telling you this because it is in fact the truth.
You will get to the highlighting site and "train" for three days wherein you will be sequestered with the other legal rejects. At this point, you might start burdening yourself with questions from the most recent horror movie you saw; "Why are we all here? What is your birth date? What is your Zodiac sign?" Then, you will turn to the girl from some small Eastern European country who sits next to you and ask where she graduated from law school. You will find out that lo and behold she graduated from Garbage two years before you did or the equivalent of Garbage (what I like to call the trifecta: 1. St. John's 2. Hofstra 3. Touro). You will complain about what a friggin' dump that shithole is and she will tell you it is, in fact, a "good school." You will internally note that her perception is impaired because in her country she was going to be sold into female slavery and comparatively speaking, yes, Garbage is not in fact a bad institution, but an asylum. A dickehad supervisor will survey your every move and complain to the head of the project if you so much as go to the bathroom for three minutes.
Please take heed of this statement as if you do not, it will come to haunt you the rest of your career: A staff attorney at Paul Weiss, Hughes Hubbard or any of these other firms is not the equivalent of being an associate. All it means to be a staff attorney is that you become the douche who surveys the project. The staff attorney is perhaps what you should fear, not embrace, when this opportunity is offered to you. As if this position is offered to you, it means you have been sitting on the 19th floor of one of these God awful projects long enough to become permanent. At this point, you should either "get thee to a nunnery" as this offer means you have been a full time prostitute for a year, or kill yourself.
Look, the secret is out. You graduated from a garbage dump and to add insult to your injury, you will end up in a penitentiary where you might as well shamefully wear your LSAT score stamped on your forehead and say "I deserve this." The truth is, you do. I mean what in God's name did you think was going to happen after spending $120,000 to go to a law school that is unaffiliated with any undergraduate institution and is free standing in the wasteland? Did you think you were going to Skadden??? Or rather did you think that Cravath was merging with the toilet firm that you work for above Dunkin Donuts?
You must hear me out when I tell you that if some staffing agency calls you and tells you that you will be working a 58 hour work week with only a 45 minute lunch break, for twenty some odd dollars an hour, in an office above a KFC with no windows, internet or bathrooms, they are not kidding. They did not tell you this simply because they were having a bad day or because you slept with their boyfriend. They are telling you this because it is in fact the truth.
You will get to the highlighting site and "train" for three days wherein you will be sequestered with the other legal rejects. At this point, you might start burdening yourself with questions from the most recent horror movie you saw; "Why are we all here? What is your birth date? What is your Zodiac sign?" Then, you will turn to the girl from some small Eastern European country who sits next to you and ask where she graduated from law school. You will find out that lo and behold she graduated from Garbage two years before you did or the equivalent of Garbage (what I like to call the trifecta: 1. St. John's 2. Hofstra 3. Touro). You will complain about what a friggin' dump that shithole is and she will tell you it is, in fact, a "good school." You will internally note that her perception is impaired because in her country she was going to be sold into female slavery and comparatively speaking, yes, Garbage is not in fact a bad institution, but an asylum. A dickehad supervisor will survey your every move and complain to the head of the project if you so much as go to the bathroom for three minutes.
Please take heed of this statement as if you do not, it will come to haunt you the rest of your career: A staff attorney at Paul Weiss, Hughes Hubbard or any of these other firms is not the equivalent of being an associate. All it means to be a staff attorney is that you become the douche who surveys the project. The staff attorney is perhaps what you should fear, not embrace, when this opportunity is offered to you. As if this position is offered to you, it means you have been sitting on the 19th floor of one of these God awful projects long enough to become permanent. At this point, you should either "get thee to a nunnery" as this offer means you have been a full time prostitute for a year, or kill yourself.
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