Friday, December 29, 2006

Home...but not for long

Back on the east coast. Completely exhausted. (My body never adjusted to the time zone change out there.) I am able to move in on Sunday which is good. The next couple days will be rough but I'm pretty excited.

I have a lot to say about Saddam being executed (so quick!!) but I'm too tired for it right now.

Ugh, but my mind is racing.

Sleep, must try to sleep.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

The Search for the Perfect Apartment, Part III

I am about to scream.

Very long story short: brokers suck.

After being assured it wouldn't be a problem to move into my apartment a couple of days early, I have been informed that because the holidays slowed things down, the lead inspection (necessary whenever an NYC apartment exchanges tenants - and yes this could be a lie and I know I'm a lawyer and could look this up) hasn't been done yet and I probably won't be able to move in until Monday January 1. I start work the next day. I don't give a crap about new year's (never did and probably never will) but I REALLY don't want to move the day before I start my job. Moving sucks enough, but adding that much stress is just bad.

Nothing is settled (other than I am approved for the apartment but that's not much consolation at this point), I am trying to be assertive and appropriately pushy but this is a BIG weakness for me and something I really need to work on both personally and professionally (and as a new litigator I'm sure I'll improve pretty quickly, although my problem seems to be more in situations where I feel like I have no leverage at all). Anyway, as a young female attorney, this area needs improvement.

On top of all this, we already changed out flights to come back from SF a day early so I could move on Saturday. Changing flights is not as cheap as it used to be, and if it turns out we changed them for nothing I will feel worse. My mom says not to worry so much about the money part and over time she has learned to just let go of money issues when things go wrong, but even she has only started making a decent living in the last five years so it's hard for me to give up my childhood mentality that worries about every penny. (It wasn't a fun way to grow up.)

Anyway, other than this stress things are pretty good. I had a nice massage today and was able to relax about 85% of my psyche, which is pretty good for me. I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow too - I need a more professional look so I look less like a student. My hair is one of the features I actually love about my physical appearance, so I don't want to take off too much length. Getting your hair cut can be traumatic.

Also, I've skimmed about 25% of the stuff my bosses gave me to look at before I start work. It's just not working for me. Practice guides are not meant to be read cover to cover. They are meant for looking things up when you have a specific issue, right? I'm smart enough to know when I need to look something up, so I'm gonna try not to worry about not reading all of it.

Yes, for me, easier said than done.

Monday, December 25, 2006

(Un)silent Night

Since I was yelled at to stay out of the kitchen because I complained about the abundant use of butter in almost every dish (a longstanding feud), I am therefore precluded from doing any of the dishes.

How's that for lawyering.

Merry F*cking Christmas!

The booty:

Nice simple gold chain - as a grown-up lawyer I apparently need to wear more jewelry.

DVDs - 24 season 5 (gotta get psyched for the upcoming season), Veronica Mars seasons 1 & 2 (simply awesome), Twelve Angry Men (a classic which I actually have never seen and kept meaning to).

Gift cards - Ann Taylor and J. Crew. Yay for work clothes.

Spa Day on Wednesday for Mom, Sister, and me.

Earrings - very pretty and which I would have never bought myself which is nice.

Shea Butter Lotion - for my dry cracked winter hands.

Stewart/Colbert 2008 Campaign T-shirt. Hehe.

Wine. Which must be consumed here because it's not going on the plane home.

An awesome little knit chapstick holder key chain (they know me well). And no, I can't quit. If that's my only real vice, it's a decent one to have.

A bit more, but it's sounding pretty gluttonous at this point.

Merry Christmas and happy eating to all. The hills kicked my ass again today. But I feel less guilty about the snacking. (Ok, the drinking.)

I am so going to watch 24 now. I hope the Season 6 preview tells me how Kiefer gets off that slow boat to China!

Sunday, December 24, 2006

I actually have nothing substantive to say...

for once. I know, I know, I'm usually so insightful.

Oof. I went for a "run" yesterday and the hills kicked my sorry ass. I thought I was in shape.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Brain Overload

We're leaving for San Fran tomorrow morning, I'm moving the day after we get back next Friday, which means I need to be all packed which is so not happening, and I still have to get a present for my mom, who deserves a hell of a lot after schlepping around NYC with me looking for an apartment, laying out the necessary money for the apartment which I will pay back, and overall for putting up with my obnoxious self for the past 4 months.

That was a long run-on sentence.

So I emailed my references a big thank you because they totally helped me get the job, and I've gotten two responses along the lines of "criminal defense?!" (from my DA buddies whose office barely hires anyone who doesn't have serious political connections) and "New York's gain is our loss and now I have another reason to be mad at this DA's office" (from my former professor/judge). It's funny. It sounds like they really wanted me to stay in Boston and work for the DA's office, yet being close to them wasn't enough to get me hired. Whatever. I'm psyched for New York, and when I make it big they can say they knew me when.

Ugh. I kind of hate flying. And when I say kind of I mean a lot. I flew back from Europe this past summer days after the big terrorist plot in London was revealed, and I was so nervous (we flew through London on the way home) and pissed off that I couldn't bring chapstick on the plane. After I got through security I realized I totally could have just stuck it in my bra or something, but that seemed extreme. No one knew how far the patdowns were gonna go...and I am seriously addicted to chapstick. Bert's Bees is the best. If it were still forbidden now I don't think I would be going to Cali.

At least I'll have plenty to read on the plane...the NY penal code, rules of disclosure and depositions, lots of fun stuff. I'm scared.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

You Know She's A Little Bit Dangerous...

Remember that episode of 90210 where Emily Valentine shows up in Beverly Hills? I didn't realize she dated Dylan for a little while too before she crazy-latched onto Brandon.

Were shoulder pads still the thing in the early '90s?

Soy = Gay.

Ok, I have been eating tofu my entire life. According to Jim Rutz from World Net Daily (some right wing rag that was hyperlinked by the illustrious Frank Rich), I should be a lesbian. And while I think that sometimes that might be easier, I am in fact not a lesbian.

At first I thought I was reading The Onion, but sadly the article was gravely serious. Why can they just make this shit up and get away with it?! I don't understand.

Monday, December 18, 2006

The Search for the Perfect Apartment, Part II


That was...eventful. In some good ways and some bad.

The good news is that I found a place. After seeing a bunch of tiny postage stamp size studios and one bedroom places, I decided I should widen my geographic preferences a bit and find something better. The place I picked is beautiful, huge, allows dogs, and is very decently priced. I won't feel secure for another few days of course because everything took longer than expected and the lease is being FedEx'd to me, but hopefully there won't be a problem.

The bad news is...a lot:

1. Car got towed. Our fault in misreading the damn signs, but still really fucking annoying. And fucking expensive.

2. The bait and switch. We lost almost a half a day of searching due to the assholicness of a broker who led me to believe the apartment he was showing me was a no-fee apartment when it wasn't and then who never even showed up to where I was supposed to meet him. Dick.

3. Shady/fraudulent "landlord screening company": Their schtick is to get you to fork over money, run your credit check that will be good for any of their landlords, assure you they will find you an apartment in two days, and then NEVER CALL YOU BACK. The rest is too bitchy to recap, but if I don't get a full refund, and actually, even when I do, I will be reporting these pricks to the city and the Better Business Bureau.

4. Meeting your father, who happens to be in the city on business, for dinner: Every interaction with my father leads to tears, indigestion, or a migraine. 'Nuff said.

So, all in all, the search was ultimately successful with a lot of pitfalls along the way. But I'm a little bit wiser.

I start work January 2, and because we're going to San Fran for Christmas to visit Sister and Sister's boyfriend, I won't be moving in until December 30th. Since I'll be busy unpacking on New Year's Day at least I won't have time to get nervous...

Except I'm already nervous, especially after seeing the "couple of CLE materials" I picked up from the office on Friday to read up on before I start. I needed a big box and had to take a cab back.

Also? I've done zero Christmas shopping.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

The Search for the Perfect Apartment, Part I

Off to the city early tomorrow morning to start the hunt. My price limit has unfortunately gone up a bit in the past couple days of online searching, so hopefully I will be able to postpone those pesky loans for a little while longer.

Should I go to bed or watch tonight's episode of The OC?

I think we all know the answer to that.

Pretty Baby

Everyone always says just because two beautiful people have a baby doesn't mean the baby will be beautiful. But, I think we can objectively say that this one is. Look at those lips! I want one! (But then I'll probably want to give it back so I guess I don't want one yet.)


After looking at what seems like a million Craigslist apartment postings, I have concluded I will be living in one of those good old New York City shoeboxes (at least for a year until I prove how awesome I am and they give me a salary boost).

Hehehe. Just like me to complain, isn't it?

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

I Am So A Real Attorney Now.

It's amazing how things can go from shit and despair to wonder and amazement in no time at all. I formally accepted the job today and am very excited about it. Because it's a small firm, I will have mucho responsibility early on, which is thrilling and scary. But, as I said in the interview, as long as I have my head wrapped around the legal and factual issues, it won't take me long to get over my nerves in the courtroom. At least I hope it won't. Interviews are all about slight exaggeration, right?

Next hurdle: finding the perfect apartment. Eeeek.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006





Dear Heart,

Are you still cold and black? I think I noticed you warming to the cuteness of the pre-teen love connection in Cheaper by the Dozen 2.

Oh wait, you also sneered haughtily and gleefully at this. All clear.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Sunday, December 10, 2006

I'm gonna try...

to not be a whiner anymore. Ok, at least not more than once every couple of weeks.

Eh, who am I kidding.

But, I do get a great deal of pleasure out of the shallower things in life. So, in honor of my beginning to watch the final season of Alias on dvd (probably in about a day and a half, and really, who else has the opportunity for such sloth?), I give you (not that I wrote it, of course, but whatever), the funniest Television Without Pity exchange in history:

"I don't understand. Vaughn, what're you telling me?" "Well," he says, "for starters, my name isn't Michael Vaughn." WHAT? Syd pulls back, and WHAM! A car crashes right into the side of them and BLACKOUT.

BLACKOUT? BLACKOUT? "My name isn't Michael Vaughn" and BLACKOUT??? What the? How the? AND I WAS PREDICTING SEASON FIVE WOULD SUCK DONKEY BALLS. Oh, man. All I can say is, since my trusty sidekick Wendy Kroy hasn't watched the last ten episodes of the season, he wasn't able to join me in the viewing of this total FUCKWITTEDNESS, but one second after the car crashed into Syd and Vaughn, my phone rang and this is the conversation that occurred:

Sars: Dude.
Erin: Duuuude.
Sars: What. The. Fuck.
Erin: I. Don't. Know.
Erin: I know, dude. THE FUCK?
Sars: I…dude?
Erin: Dude. Just…dude.
Sars: See? Uh. I.
Erin: With the. In the. How the.
Sars: Dude?
Erin: Dude.
Sars: And, in case it hasn't been said enough: DUDE.
Erin: Totally.

Thank you for joining us for the closing installment of I Suffered Through Major Portions of this Season, And All I Got Was This Lousy NotVaughn T-shirt. Join us next season when we will proceed to go, whhhaaaaaaa?

Dude? Dude.

Heeeeeeee. Gets me every time.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Depression is Exhausting.

I'm tired. I slept until 11am, at which point I forced myself out of bed, feeling groggy and drugged. After a massive amount of coffee and some oatmeal, I went out for a run in the perfect cold sunny weather. Saturdays used to be my long run. This long run used to average about 7 miles, and was more when I was training for the half marathon. Today, I slowly jogged about 4 miles before I felt like I would collapse. I haven't hit 6 miles on a Saturday in about a month.

I also have a slight cold, which of course could add to the tiredness. But it's more than that. I've been interviewing for a job for a full fucking year. The physical, psychological, and emotional toll has been...there are no words. I know I sound like a big fat complainer, and I have food and shelter and a lot of people have it way worse off, but creeping up on 26 living in your parents' tiny house doing less than nothing day in and day out with almost $150,000 in loans weighing you down is sustainable for only so long. And I think I'm nearing the breaking point. I started cursing at the crappy Christmas music on the radio today.

Last year around this time, I had an executive interview with my dream employer, which passed on me the first time around, and is still dicking me around saying they will be hiring more people in the next couple of months. The interview I had this past week, which I still maintain is the best interview I've ever had, got me so excited just thinking about the idea of being hired that I've done a complete 180 in my head. If I don't get the job (which is statistically likely), the future disappointment I will feel is already seeping its way into my bones.

I miss my friends. I was never a huge going out on the town person, but I miss just sitting in a bar or restaurant talking about nothing and everything. I miss deadlines, and pressure, and watching TV not because it's there but because I know I should be doing something else. I can't believe I'm saying it, especially after the Bar Study Hell that was the summer of 2006, but I miss The Law.

Reading back over this I pretty much sound like a whiny brat. Maybe I am. But that's ok. There's a reason I started blogging when I felt like even the people who haven't forgotten about me didn't want to listen to this kind of blather.

That above sentence is a grammatical disaster. Oh well. This ain't no writing sample.

God, what I would give to be paid to stress over legal writing again.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Family Values

Mary Cheney is preggers.

Can we say Republican Clusterfuck?

An Open Note to all Skeevy Guys at the Gym...

Maybe I'm looking better than usual these days, or maybe someone is adding testosterone to the water supply, but I've been hit on at the gym three times in the past couple of weeks. Now, when someone is running along on the treadmill, with headphones in of course, is that really the best time to strike up a conversation?

"Ah, I see you went to Unnamed University. My cousin's girlfriend's brother went there. Did you like it?"

"I've noticed you around here a lot. Do you want to get some coffee sometime?"

Um, I may be breathing heavily, but I'm not in the mood for that.

Now, this is not to say that I don't check people out at the gym. We all do. But we are not supposed to act on it. At least not in more than that smile-look away-smile-look away kind of way.

So, to all men out there, we know it takes guts to approach a girl and we appreciate it. But the gym is ME time, as in, off limits.

Wellllll, unless you are so hot that I forget I'm already sweating. But that hasn't happened so far.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want...

My interview in NYC went well. Really well. Extremely well. I have never felt so immediately comfortable and confident in an interview before. I really liked the people, I'm a perfect match for this place, I think I got it across quite adeptly, and I think they really liked me and were impressed.

Which means, of course, that I probably won't get a callback. Seems to be my general track record so far. They will be asking a few people to come back in a week or so, and would like to make an offer to someone by Christmas. Holy Mary Mother of God, talk about the perfect present. (Again, screw God, this would be all me.) I'm going to try not to get my hopes up, but everything was just so perfect. The building and offices were beautiful, the location is awesome, and when I get rejected I am simply going to have to jump off a cliff.


In a totally unrelated aside, I'm watching Dirty Dancing for the 1,406,395th time right now because when certain movies are on TV, no matter what time of the day or night, and you can watch them, you must watch them, even if you own the DVD. (Others must-watch flicks include: Bring It On, Speed, The Shawshank Redemption, and The Notebook.)

Anyway, I remember when I used to watch Dirty Dancing when I was young (my parents never gave a shit about what we watched, bless their hearts) I didn't really understand that Penny needed an abortion. I knew there was something wrong with her, that some bad doctor hurt her and she was sick, but I never got this central portion of the movie. Maybe because they never use the word "abortion." Or, maybe because even at 8 years old I was focused solely on how hot Patrick Swayze is in this movie.

Oh no, it's the dancing in the bedroom scene. I must give it my full attention.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Informational Interviewing Makes Me Feel Like An Idiot

Dear ______,

Thank you so much for meeting with me today. I have attached my resume to this email for your review. Please feel free to pass it along to anyone you think is appropriate. While I know that your agency/firm is not currently hiring, I am so thankful that you were able to take 20 minutes out of your day to talk to me about your practice and how you know so many people in the area of the law that interests me but don't actually know whether/when/how any of them are hiring. I especially appreciated it when you told me how employers really take notice of people who volunteer their services in the hope of eventually being hired. As a licensed attorney with a six figure loan debt, I sure am looking to volunteer my services and appear completely desperate when I could make the same amount of money (read: none) catching up on General Hospital.

Again, thank you for meeting with me and making me feel less like a real attorney and more like a useless law student. Lord knows there aren't enough of those.

Yours truly,

Harmless Error

Seriously, ugh. Why do law school career services people think that "informational interviewing" is a good idea? I get the whole networking thing, but I find it easier in the cocktail party setting. It's a good thing I can start going to bar association meetings.

By the time I got home I had to have several glasses of wine and watch 3 episodes of Alias with my mom (who is now quite hooked on the awesomeness that is Sydney Bristow) before I felt like I didn't want to scream.

I'm off to NYC tomorrow for a real interview. With people who actually have an interest in me. Wish me luck.

Friday, December 01, 2006

It's (not) beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

I've just read two posts about how the first day of December has brought lovely snow to the blogger's respective locales. It is currently 64 DEGREES IN BOSTON. The temperature is supposed to drop tonight and snow is in the forecast for next week, but seriously, WTF!? No one loves winter more than I do!

I have some shopping to do this weekend. I need a nice professional winter coat for interviews and eventually work. My pea coat, which I've had since high school, is looking pretty weary, and does in fact make me look like I'm still in high school. (Of course, this is apparently not hard to do since when I was at the supermarket the other day, albeit in jeans, sneakers, a sweatshirt, and a ponytail, I was mistaken for a high school student by someone collecting money for the football team.)

So, I need a nice coat. And a new skirt suit and some nice professional jewelry, according to my mom. I suppose I agree that skirt suits are more sophisticated for interviews than pantsuits (damn sexists) and since I only have a couple that are neither gray nor black, I need another one. My Ann Taylor credit card has had a nice long break, so I guess it's time to whip it out again.

My sister (who left Stanford 6 credits short of graduating and still makes more money than I bet I will in my first real job) is asking about Christmas presents for this year, and I really just want to skip the whole thing. Everyone knows I don't have any money, and although this will be the last year where this will be the case, the idea of our usual gluttonous spending makes me ill. That doesn't mean that I don't want some work clothes and a couple of dvds, but why not just wait for all the after-Christmas sales? I think since deep down the only thing I want for Christmas is a job that I like and pays me what I'm worth, anything else seems trivial.

You know what's not trivial, though? Christmas music. Every time I hear Carol of the Bells it makes me think of Home Alone and how great Christmas was as a kid.