Holy Sh*t

Today, E and I slowly walked towards the house after law firm #2 retreat.

It was completely different than law firm #1 retreat, starting with the fact that it was really a string of events where people could come in and out as they pleased, so WAY more people attended because it wasn't really a retreat for anyone except the summers. It was also very different because they put the summers up in porn star rooms with roman pillars around the stairs leading to four person hot tubs and mirrors above the magic fingers beds. (Okay, so maybe I'm slightly exaggerating...)

Much like firm #1's retreat, I enjoyed the activities and meals on this retreat and took advantage of them to get to know people from the firm better. I laughed at funny stories, and did my best not to be the entertainingly drunk summer associate. It was a good, but exhausting weekend.

Our slow, tired trek towards the front door was punctuated by my instinctual reach into the mail box. There was a large envelope (!) from a writing competition I'd entered several months ago. I tore it open as we walked in the door and read "Congratulations!"

Apparently, the billions of petty revisions my advisor had required of my journal note were not in vain. I actually won a decent chunk of cash, and a free trip to go accept the award in DC. I'm in shock, actually. It's probably the biggest honor I've received in the course of this whole law thing and I really wasn't thinking anything could come of it. I sent that note into at least five competitions, spending plenty of cash on each one. With each one I figured, I already wrote the damn thing...why not spend $70 on copies and shipping?

Now, no doubt because others thought it was silly to spend that much to make paper copies of an electronic document, I'm about to be the proud recipient of recognition, cash, and a free trip. I can't completely believe it, but I'm thrilled. How cool is that?

So, the moral of the story is this: if you have to write a note for your journal (or a seminar, or whatever), get a faculty advisor, work a little harder than you would have without one, and do the annoying photocopying, fedexing, etc. to enter writing competitions. The more ridiculous, the better--it thins the competition. Do it! You just might be surprised.

The next level

Sure, I've got a ring I wear every day (or rather, I try to remember to wear it every day). And we put a deposit down on the location to reserve the date. We've even been to a few catering tastings. The invitation list is mostly done. The save the date cards are ordered. We've got a friend who's probably going to do the photography and another friend who'll probably do the flowers. My sister-in-law will make the jewelery for my bridal party. We've looked at the hotel and possible locations for the rehearsal dinner. And I've tried on dresses on three occasions.

The first dress trying on attempt was at a chic-chic salon where I couldn't afford anything. The second attempt, my mom even cried at the first dress I put on. I laughed and pointed out that I looked like an automobile and asked her to at least save the tears for a dress that was flattering. Unfortunately, while everything in that store was reasonably priced, nothing was remotely attractive on me. The third attempt, however, I found a few dresses that could work in my price range and one I loved. I knew when I tried it on that it was too expensive. I was scared to find out how expensive, though, because I knew I'd buy it if it was less than 50% more than I'd planned to spend. Turns out, it was just at the high end of my budget. I was shocked. R, who was with me, went back to make sure that the woman knew which dress we were talking about because she was also shocked. The quality of the dress was very high and it seemed too good to be true that it was so "cheap." ("Cheap" as 50% more than I've ever spent on an outfit, with the baseline being the emergency suit I bought in 10 minutes at a Union Street boutique.)

Yet, despite all of this preparation, until yesterday, the wedding still felt like a normal event to be scheduled in my life. I finish work in two weeks, run a half marathon, school starts, N's wedding, a few trips, another couple half marathons, the MPRE is in November, the holidays, my first marathon in february, and I get married in March. It was just another stop on the train of my life this year. As AD informed me the other night, I'm "painfully pragmatic." So I figured, the stress of getting married -- that's for other people.

But, yesterday, the event took on a whole new level of reality. E2 and I went to the salon to see my dress and how it fit after the 5+ summer associate pounds have neatly settled themselves on my frame. It still fit, and E agreed that it looks beautiful. I figured I might be able to wait until September to order the dress, so D could see it when she visits and possibly I could whittle a few of the extra inches away. But the owner of the store quickly disavowed me of that notion. Apparently, the dress needs to be here 6 weeks before the ceremony in case I need alterations. With work breaks for Christmas and Chinese New Years, even if I ordered it yesterday, it wouldn't arrive 'til late January at the earliest.

So, that's it. I was measured and determined to be a particular size. Oddly enough, it was the size they had in the store and it fit reasonably well right off the rack -- this NEVER happens for me. The owner of the store knew her business, she discreetly asked me if I "maintain my weight" because the dress fits as is. I explained that I'm about 5 pounds heavier than I normally am, and we discussed the theoretical pre-wedding loss of weight that seems to accompany every woman's wedding. Turns out, I have a "nice bust" and unless I lose so much weight that it shrinks to the size it was when I was a teenage athlete with 13% body fat (oh, hell no) it will be the limiting factor in the size of dress I order. Kind of a relief, actually. I can gain a few more pounds or lose 10 and I still will have ordered the correct size dress.

So, I plunked down my credit card. And, for some reason, it feels so much more real. I'm getting married. Workers in a chinese factory will be cutting material to fit my body exactly and sewing what must be a million parts to put it together. Six months from now, the most expensive outfit I've ever worn will arrive in the bay area for me to try it on and have it altered. And all of of this effort is focused on one day. I'm excited, and I'm starting to see how this whole wedding thing could be stressful.

Drinking it in

As planned, I've been attending the social activities, enjoying a bit too much of the free food and alcohol, and putting my free time to very good use.

We've done a weekend with E's sister and her boyfriend including a friday night in San Francisco, winetasting in Sonoma, a party in San Rafael and another party in Cupertino. I wanted to post about the wineries we visited, but time got away from me. Suffice it to say that North Sonoma is much better for winetasting than Napa, in my opinion. Two weekends ago, I went on a wonderful retreat with one of the firms (which was awesome despite my whining post). This weekend, I left E in the heat of Silicon Valley (102F at home on Saturday!) to do the whole bachelorette weekend in a condo on the beach thing for my college roommate. The weekend with the girls was amazing: views of the California coast while running, wine tasting in the golden foothill valleys, eating too much, staying up late and laughing at old stories -- I'm so glad I was able to share it with some of my oldest and closest friends.

So far, this summer has been decadent, corpulent, and full of life at its fullest. But, I'm getting ready to be done. A week ago, I ordered a huge load of books from Amazon to make sure I fully enjoy my spare time this summer. When they arrived, I realized that I have no time to read them.

I've scheduled myself so tightly that I don't have enough time get enough sleep, much less hang out with E or read. I'm notorious for doing this. In fact, I looked at the calendar to figure out when it would slow down and was shocked to realize that of the 23 weekends left in the year, I'm out of town for 9 and have plans for 13 others. In other words, I have ONE remaining weekend left this year to stay at home and relax. So, of course, it's now scheduled in as "do-nothing-weekend." In my defense, this seems to be the year that many of my close friends have chosen to marry (with E & I coming in a little on the slow end next spring).

But I think it's funny that I'm looking forward to school starting so I can relax at home and study at night. I know when it's here I'll regret my longing. But right now, after unpacking my travel bag again I feel like multiple serial nights at home with E is a decadent luxury to be cherished, even if I'm reading several hundred pages a night to pay for the privilege.

It's not that I'm not having fun with my current life. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm having fun like a professional. But I need to realize that I'm not a professional partier or socializer. It drains me and I need to slow down. It's funny how the grass is always greener...

Blessed Quandry

Living in a world of assumptions, I'm wondering what choice I will make if I get an offer from both Firm #1 and Firm #2. I like both. For completely different reasons.

Each one will set me down a very different path in my life and I will regret the opportunities lost behind either door, should I eventually choose to close it.

I wonder what I could have done in my life to deserve such a wonderful problem.

Then I remember that it's not actually my problem yet.

But, still, I can't help but assume and wonder...

The Wonder Spice

Sure, turmeric tastes damn good and appears to have anti-cancer properties.

But that's not all! It also permanently dyes the bristles on your toothbrush. That's right: the yellow-headed sonicare is mine.

So, the clean the fridge out treat of the week was very pretty:

3 Color Fusion

• Dice 3/4 white onion.
  
• Dice 2 roma tomatoes and one red tomato-on-the-vine.
  
• Sautee diced onion in olive oil. Add tomatoes, 1-2 T turmeric and black pepper to taste.
  
• Simmer until slightly soupy so that the base is an orange juice and orange-colored onion bits but the tomatoes are still recognizeable.
  
• Remove tomato salsa mixture and place in a bowl to cool.
  
• Finely dice 4 cloves garlic.
  
• Place garlic in sautee pan, cover with olive oil and simmer on medium heat.
  
• Add 1.5 bunches washed spinach.
  
• Sautee until wilted but slightly firm (in hindsight, perhaps they should have been sauteed until soft).
  
• Remove spinach mixture to a bowl and lightly salt.
  
• Warm corn tortillas.
  
• Place warmed tortillas, the orange/red mixture bowl, and the green mixture bowl to the table at the same time.
  
• Construct wraps by placing a layer of green topped with a layer of orange/red.
  
• Try to eat gracefully.
  
• Admit you can't eat it gracefully and cut into bite-sized bits of colorful goodness with a knife and fork.
  
• Talk about improvements, like baking with cheese (for structural integrity), or adding spiced chicken strips.
  

Really?

35+ hours of direct interaction between the summers and the associates and partners who attend. Lots of alcohol, good food, sponsored activities and, of course, they put us up in very swank rooms at a very swank resort. Overall, the firm retreat was lovely. I had a blast and feel like I know many of the people who attended much better than I did before we left.

The only major negative observation is about my future colleagues and the attitudes that the industry of law is willing to accept from its members. Apparently, it is acceptable for summers and associates to have such a sense of entitlement that they get angry when the free food, activity plans, or alcohol isn't to their liking. And, if they don't like the policy set by the firm, they think it is entirely acceptable to speak ill of servers as they bring the food, or to be rude to bartenders. In all honesty, I find this shocking.

Somehow this subset of the group chose not to see the retreat as a gift. They didn't consider that if they wanted something to accompany or replace any portion of the gift, they could purchase an alternative option. Instead of being appreciative, many of them complained about the free stuff and asked, nay demanded, for alternatives of their choosing (all on the firm, of course).

Realization: I find it hard to enjoy a wonderful environment when I am sharing it with even a few vocal winers/whiners.

I know it's not the firm. It's something about the type of people that want to end up in the practice of BIGLAW. Not all of them, certainly, but definitely some of them feel that the world owes them quite a bit according to their tastes and desires. Sure, it's annoying to be around. But more importantly, I can't imagine how miserable it must be to have your default response to gifts be anger, disappointment, and frustration.

What causes people to look at the world like this?

I couldn't resist

I got some spam today. Or so I thought. But after a careful reading, I determined that the misspellings were legitimate and it really was someone applying for a real job, with a real posting on the internet, which they referenced via the URL in the email. I read the message, and verified that the job application's intended recipient had an email similar to mine.

I opted not to forward it to the intended recipient. Attention to detail being a job qualification and all...

So instead, I replied to the sender, informed them of their mistake and...

Suggested several grammatical edits.

The author was were clearly ESL and qualified for the technical job posting (which happened to be in a field where I've hired people in the past). I thought my suggestions were a nice thing to do, but I enjoyed doing it a bit too much. Also, I thought it was funny. Imagine the surprise on the person's face when they get my reply.

Clearly, I'm a sick, sick, individual.

Do you think I'm going to get a thank you?

Books 12 & 13

So, the quest continues.

Book 12: Charming Billy, by Alice McDermott. D showed up with a rat and a couple of books a few barbeques ago. Fourth of July weekend arrived and I had no books to read. D's book won by default of being in the right place at the right time. So, I read this book, a National Book Award Winner, while relaxing in San Simeon for the holiday. It was good. Full of drama. Typical, really. The kind of book I wouldn't choose to read on my own, but being the kind of person who reads the back of cereal boxes, the kind of book I'd read without reservation if I had no other un-read books on hand. I've read worse on more than one occasion.

Bascialy, it was a sad, painful tale of Irish-American immigrants, alcoholism, catholicism, family, and all the drama therein. Like I said, it was good. I recommend it if you like this genre. It wasn't full of surprises. But it was great for what it was supposed to be. And really, is there any better epitaph? I'd like my tombstone to say "BT was great for what bt was supposed to be." Now, if only I could figure out what bt is supposed to be...

Moving on.

Book 13: The Da Vinci Legacy. This book was another gift from D of nym. But this one was much closer to my legal heart. Apparently, Lewis Perdue wrote this book, the original Leonardo religion thriller, back in the '80s. Then, Dan Brown gained acclaim for the Da Vinci Code and predictable accusations of derivative works ensued. To be fair, I have not yet read Daughter of God, so I am speaking without full knowledge. But, in this reader's opinion, the Da Vinci Code and the Da Vinci Legacy are CLEARLY very different books. Ironically, both belong to the same category in the world of BT -- mindless brain candy, good for killing a Sunday afternoon in a fit of sloth-like indulgence, but not anywhere near the realm of linguistic or literary perfection. Anyways, back to the review. The Da Vinci Legacy took me about 2 days to get through, and much of that short time period is due to the fact that Lewis Perdue drew me in and made me want to keep reading. So, if you're the kind who enjoys an escape full of impossible escapades, a wee bit of romance, and just damn good plot advancement against an excellently researched Italian backdrop, you should go for it. Read the Da Vinci Legacy (and don't forget to read the Da Vinci code for comparison sake!). I was glad that I did and I will be reading the Daughter of God one of these days merely for the pleasure of it. I'll do it even if I find nothing of interest to report to the blog regarding plagiarism.

Oh, and I'm not so sure that this whole working for a living thing is what I'm all about. That is all.

Happy Independence Day

E & I just concluded one of the best Fourth of July celebrations I can remember. Fireworks? Yeah, I've been listening to 'em loudly screaming and booming in the night. But I haven't seen a single one, unless you count the teenager across the street who threw poppers into the street so the cars that drove by would make 'em pop. Normally, the fireworks are a major part of the reason why I sleep with a smile after the 4th. But no, despite the awesome power of explosives, and my full support of a holiday that uses them for entertainment instead of evil, this Fourth was great because of the way it worked out, which somehow involved no staring at flashing light.

See, back in January, E2 and I looked for open campsites where we could camp and celebrate the holiday weekend. As is our norm, we were behind the curve and several of our first choices were already fully booked. Two years prior, E2 & I had gone to washburn campsite in San Simeon. The chemical toilets stank up the entire campground, the fog never cleared, the sites were too close, we were awoken every morning at the ungodly hour that old people think is morning by the sound of their RV generators that were 20 feet away at best on both sides, there were no trees at the campsite, there was only one hike and it wasn't that good, it didn't warm up above 65F the whole weekend, and well, in general, it was suboptimal. Sure, we had fun, because hey--it was vacation, and camping, and with friends--how could we not have fun. But, despite the fun, the other negatives made us cross San Simeon off the list of posssible summer camping destinations.

Never say never though. Because when everything else is booked for July by January, you start to reconsider your options. Damnit, we wanted to camp! So this time, we booked a site at san simeon creek instead of Washburn. This weekend couldn't have been more different than last time. Again, we were right next to the bathrooms (driving from the bay area on on a Friday night means you arive later than the locals and get to check into one of the last available sites), but they were flush toilets that were cleaned daily. And really, when camping, proximity to the toilets is not a bad thing if they don't stink. The building acted as a noise and wind block on that side while we were blessed with trees to block the noise and wind (and provide shade from the sun for E--who's a sun wuss, and doing Georgia proud with a nice red neck after this weekend). Unlike last time, where we had a nice view of the parking lot, the view from this site showed us deep blue ocean, a cliff, and behind us, the gorgeous california foothills. To make sure we enjoyed ourselves, the fog burned off each day around noon and beat the weather forecast by about 10-20 degrees (I'd resigned myself to 60 degree days, it would be worth it to hang out with friends and relax). So, now, I'm dark, full of Vitamin D and just generally happy.

E2 & S/O came as planned. Additionally, D & R (who decided on Thursday to fly up from Southern California--an AWESOME addition to the plans) showed up. We all hung out in the sun during the day, playing bocce ball on the beach, lazing around, drinking beer, wine, soda and water, getting sun burnt, eating gourmet food (car camping) and reading books. Each morning, E & I slept in. And each evening, we all gathered around the fire and talked about everything and nothing.

At the end of the weekend, E & I even managed to fit in a visit to my grandparents and I was happy to see that my papa's anger at the dog is expressed with more vehemence than the last time--clearly he is feeling better.

Overall, I can't imagine a better way to spend the holiday. Friends, sun, beach, bocce, grandparents, reading, sleep, and amazing food (thanks to E2 who did all the shopping and pulled some mad favors from the carniceria). At around $50 per person total for three days including food, lodging, and parking, it was a bargain of a vacation. And yet, despite the low price, in terms of enjoyment, it was high on the list of favorites for the year. Not to mention that there's nothing quite like that first shower after not showering after 3 days of dirt, smoke, smores and grime.

Basically, I feel very lucky to have spent such a wonderfully relaxing and fun weekend with friends who could join me and can't help but think that it's a future payment to compensate me for the weekend of sucktitude that July 4th will most likely be next year while I'm studying for the bar. Oh well. I'm full of good food, relaxed and tan. I'll worry about the bar when I'm actually studying for it. The focus this summer is on fun. So far, so good.

Who says the U.S. is the most litigious nation?

We don't even have an astrologist suing for damages resulting from space exploration.

Gotta admire the astrologist's gumption though...

The gift that keeps on giving

Tonight, we went through another two cans of the garbonzo beans (the Channa Masala was an excellent addition to the recipe file) from the stockpile I inherited from D when she ditched Norcal for Socal. Traitor.

Anyways, tonight's offering was falafel with harissa and a simple greek salad of whole milk yogurt, tomatoes, cucumbers and dill. It was quite a bit of work to make the falafel and harissa all in one night, but it was worth it. So yeah, another big thanks to D. If she's gonna abandon me, at least she left me with the ingredients to force me to make cowboy caviar, channa masala, and now falafel. I guess there is a silver lining in every cloud.

On a totally unrelated note, anyone who is a warm person have an opinion about the value of a visor while running vis-a-vis a mesh hat? The full material hat is not cutting it in the heat and I'm out for a replacement but I can't decide if the exposure to the direct sun is worth the evaporation.

Books 9, 10, almost 11, and 11

So, it's been since March that I've posted an installment in my approximately 25 book challenge list. Again, I'm glad I didn't join the overachievers in the 50 book challenge, because clearly, by now, I'd be beaten. But instead, at 11 books down and 14 to go, I've got a reasonable chance of meeting my goal. Hip hip hooray for mediocrity, moderation, and mmmm.... mmm.... something that starts with m.

Book 9 was way back in puerto rico: The House on the Lagoon, by Rosario Ferre. It may be the best book I've read so far this year. It had a little bit of everything, historical tidbits about a place I was visiting that I wouldn't otherwise know, a convoluted plot with a surprise twist at the end, complicated characters that the reader is forced to simulataneously love and hate, and, of course, gorgeous language. If you liked Love in the time of Cholera or 100 years of solitude you will also like The House on the Lagoon. All three books have a similar vein of genetic faultlines and humanity running through drama against a gorgeous backdrop. I know people who find this type of writing annoying. But, thankfully, I'm one of the appreciators who also happened to be in the setting of the book at the time I read it, so I thorougly enjoyed it and heartily recommend it.

Book #10: In keeping with the Raggaeton theme, book #10 was also a Puerto Rico read, also way back in April. I decided I needed to know more about the political writings of the Puerto Ricans because although I knew little about them as a people, I knew they were conflicted, particularly on the issue of their relationship with the U.S. So, I read Boricuas: Influential Puerto Rican Writings -- An Anthology. It was full of firey texts from revolutionaries, painful expository writings of those caught between cultures, and pragmatic but less passionate pleas for moderation from others. This book probably wins the award for the most educational non school text I've read this year. I started it with only The House on the Lagoon as my Puerto Rican cultural background. I finished it confused and impressed by the complex issues this culture faces. I was very glad to have read it during my stay in Puerto Rico and wholeheartedly recommend it to travelers who like to have an idea of the politics of the places they visit.

Book Almost #11: This is an embarrassment. As early as the beginning of March, I ordered and promised myself I'd read Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August. I finished half of it in the last few days of our Puerto Rico trip and the flights back. But then, I stalled. It's an amazing book because it chronicles the beginning of World War I in astounding detail. But, if you become too busy and put it down for two weeks, I dare you to pick it up and have any clue who the generals are, which armies they command, and why it matters that they just decided to retreat instead of charge forth. Perhaps when I'm older and less distracted I will have the fortitude to get through this (and the half-finished copy of Ulysses that stays by my bed).

Book #11 (for reals): D stopped by with one of her rats the other day. She also brought books, and in particular, she brought Dancing Naked in the Mind Field by Kary Mullis. I'd refrained from starting any books for quite some time because I was still struggling with the falsehood that I would finish The Guns of August (I try to force myself to finish one book before I start another unless they are in completely different genres and the time spent reading one could not, in any estimation, be detracting from the time spent finishing the other--yeah, I'm a control freak). BHM is a huge fan of Kary Mullis, so when I found myself with a free weekend and a book by none other than the man himself, well, I figured the time had come to cut the cord on The Guns of August and face the facts. Good thing, too. I raced through the book in approximately 4 hours total reading time. I wasn't trying to read quickly, it's just an easy, entertaining read with large print (another reason to go for it over TGOA). The basic take home is this: Kary Mullis is brilliant, egotistical, oh, and totally completely insane. This is probably largely because he admits that he started using drugs at the age of 6 (phenobarbs from mom...) and moved up from there. I found it odd that this book simultaneously reminded me of Feynman's similar work as well as The Illuminatus Trilogy. So basically, reading Mullis is like reading Feynman on Acid. But seriously, if you're interested in the history behind the invention of PCR and the crazy mind of someone who could see the simple solution to a very important problem, read the book. If you have trouble believing that people who believe in aliens, astrology, and halucinogens as mind-enhancing drugs could be intelligent, then this book is a good one for you to read and open your mind. Or, it may just annoy you. The whole four hours my nose was buried, I was simultaneously entertained and astounded or annoyed. But the entertainment was the constant, hence the 4-hour read time. So I recommend it on that alone.

Lazy Weekend

Sometimes, flaking on established plans is exactly what you should do. I've been trying very hard to enjoy the copious spare time of being a summer associate. But, in perhaps the coolest move of the summer, I bailed on the scheduled 10K because I didn't feel like dealing with the crowds who'd be in the city for Gay Pride Weekend. Nothing against gay pride. Just something against crowds. And 40 mile drives to get to a 7:30 start time. And $30 registration fees to deal with all of it.

So, E2 and I agreed to abstain. And, on Friday night, after a dinner with the firm, for the first time since January 22nd, I found myself with a weekend approaching and no plans. Not a single one. I knew it had been a while, but I was surprised to find that my calendar had plans for every weekend since January 22nd. As E said, "no wonder this weekend feels like a vacation."

Clearly, the first thing to fill the void was sleeping in. And I did, getting slightly more than 9 hours of sleep on top of the roughly 7.5 to 8 I've been averaging all week (ahhh).

Then, I woke to find the weather cloudy and cooler than normal, so the impromptu short run with E2 extended to 6.06 miles at a 9:41 pace, which is slightly less distance and slightly slower than what we would have done at the race, but nothing to complain about. In keeping with the lazy theme, we walked a leisurely mile before the run and we strolled another 1.3 after. We talked about everything there is to discuss in our lives, showered, and went with E to our favorite mexican joint for a leisurely lunch. The rest of the day was a blissful compilation of laying in the sun in my new bathing suit, pedicures, reading, shopping for food, and cooking a spur of the moment dinner for local friends.

Today, there may be some shopping. There may be some bills paid. Or maybe I'll lay on the couch and play mario golf all day. Like I said, sometimes, it's good to be a flake.

Focus on Fun

Every day, I try to remind myself that my life isn't going to be this good again for a while, if ever. In all honesty, the summer associate gig is ridiculous.

Money? They pay us a lawyer's salary. We aren't lawyers. We aren't licensed to act as lawyers and as far as I can tell, we've done nothing else to deserve a lawyer's salary. From here, it looks like the young lawyer's salary is where it is because it's the amount necessary to convince a young attorney to do hard work and accept the decrease in quality of life related to the various evils of firms, which can include the pressure to bill, grumpy clients, lack of a social life and negative interactions with coworkers. But, during my summer associate gigs this year, both firms have explicitly asked me not to work too hard and insulated me from all of the other evils.

Events? Both firms I've been at this summer have a virtual "summers never pay for their lunch" policy. So each afternoon, as part of this job, I spend an hour to two hours of socializing with my future coworkers. Additionally, every week, there's getting to know the summers events, where the firm picks up the tab on entertainment, food, and often, alcohol (which often leads to great stories). So, I've spent quite a few hours this summer collecting a salary for the work of socializing with attorneys, but I'm not too interested in being a great story and I like to drive within the legal drinking limits, so I'm rarely the source of much entertainment. And yes, the sponsored fun isn't as great as hanging out with my own friends, but, it's free, and at least a quarter of the time during 9-5, which means that even if I would prefer hanging out with my own peeps, the majority of 'em wouldn't be available anyways.

Billing? "Oh, don't worry about it. You're a summer associate. Just do good work, finish the projects you accept, and only do as much as you can fit in between the social events, the training sessions, and the lunches." At both of my summer firms, the summers are encouraged to do between 20 and 30 hours of billable work per week. That translates into roughly 1,000 to 1,500 billable hours per year, assuming none of it is written off. As far as I know, there isn't a law firm in the country that would let you bill those hours for the standard 1st year associate salary. And yet, for 15 weeks this summer, I am encouraged to do just that.

Stress? Other than the knowledge that 1) every associate sees me as a ticket to a free multi-course meal and 2) I've got to fit into a wedding dress sometime this year, I can honestly say that nothing about the job stresses me out. Okay, there's a slight stress related to whether I'll get an offer, but everyone continuously reassures us that it's a good year for the firm, and they need all of the summers to come back. So, we're told, as long as we don't puke at a partner's house, or sexually harass a fellow employee, we're probably in the clear. Redardless of whether it's true, I believe they do want to hire us. I just can't fathom why they'd go to all the trouble of spoiling us rotten for a summer if they didn't really want to lure us back.

Gifts? As if the list above weren't enough. Both firms hand out logoed schwag to the summers on a regular basis. It started with "thanks for accepting our offer, we're excited to have you" gifts in the fall, then Winer Holiday gifts, followed by "sorry you have to take spring finals" gifts, and finally "welcome to the firm" gifts. I've heard people complain about how lame the gifts their firms give are, but that just seems rude to me. All of the gifts have clearly been thoughtful. Yes, I may already own some of the items in un-logoed form, but for the few that I didn't, I was happy to not have to buy my own.

Obviously, on a regular basis my logical voice kicks in with some observation about how this is too good to be true. The cynical/pragmatic voice then quickly shouts back that the firms see it as an investment. It's not as if the summer associate gluttony and sloth is unique to my firms. So, says the cynical/pragmatic voice, I can either question the wisdom of the entire system or just enjoy it.

When it means I'll be happier, I try to listen to my cynical/pragmatic voice over the incessantly questioning logical one. So, I'm going to enjoy it this summer precisely because I know it won't last. Next summer, I'll be studying for the bar. For several summers after that, if all goes well, I'll be excited for my one free lunch when I have time to take a summer associate out on the firm. In the crystal ball, I can't see the next time in my future when I'm going to have every weekend and evening free for 15 consecutive weeks. That's fine with me, because much like law school, a privilege for which I was willing to pay money, I'm willing to sacrifice a good portion of my evenings and weekends for my career, where at least they'll pay me.

The difficult thing is to avoid taking the royal treatment for granted and being disappointed when it disappears. Instead, I'd like suck the nectar from each free minute this summer and fully appreciate its rare beauty so that when it's gone, I'm not bitter, I'm thankful. So far, I've crammed our free weekends full of parties, visits with friends, travel, and camping. In the evenings, in addition to nights out, I've renewed my commitment to cooking, with a focus on trying the more complicated recipes that I've been putting off because there's never going to be a better time.

Things that come in threes

I just finished my third day at the third law firm I managed to convince that I'm somewhat employable.

There are three hundred thirty-three days 'til I graduate after finishing my third year of law school. Then, I get to take an exam that is three days long. At midnight, the night after the exam is over, I turn thirty.

There are at least three times three hundred thirty-three ripe and falling apricots on our tree. I will be spending lots of time picking up fruit this weekend. Just like last weekend. And probably the weekend after that, to go with the three theme.

Observations

I'm now at law firm #2. My final week at firm #1 was predictable -- lots of social events, less work, an all around good feeling to leave on. They are clearly professionals at this thing.

Firm #2 is bigger than firm #1 or the firm I worked at last year. In fact, it's a larger organization than all but one of my previous employers, including my consulting clients. This results in some very predictable big-firm cultural differences between firm #1 and firm #0. It's also interesting to note that some of the stereotypes about big, small, and medium-sized firms do not apply.

For example, I've seen the following choices when it comes to office space and can honestly say that each has its benefits and drawbacks:

• A clear hierarchy from partner through senior associate and down to secretaries with the typical extremes of corner offices and gorgeous views as well as partial cubicals and all the in betweens.



• An egalitarian system whereby most attorneys have identical offices and those with "nicer" ones are only there by accident, not seniority. Additionally, many paralegals and support staff end up in offices that are very similar to the attorneys.



• A mediocre mixture of the two, where no one who isn't an attorney has a certain type of office, but beyond that, it's kind of hard to know the pecking order without doing your research. Similar stories for support staff, only they have a glass office ceiling, so to speak.

But, what I've noticed more, (much to my furniture/architecture-focused sister's content, no doubt) is that the distribution of offices has way less of an effect on my perception of the layout and culture than the choice of walls. I've seen the following three types of walls to divide attorneys from the rest of the office and one another, and I've found that it has a much larger effect on the overall culture than the orientation of the offices:

• Real Walls. Real doors. Open door policy. Walk down the hall, look in, see the person and wave. If the door is closed, you know it's serious.



• Glass Walls. Real doors. No need for an open door policy. If people want your attention, they stand in front of the glass and gesticulate wildly. If you are on a call or deep in thought, you stop, motion back, and people get the message, whether it's 5 more minutes, go away, or something in between. Also, depending upon your computer orientation, each person who walks by can see what you are reading at all times.



• Glass walls with blinds. People choose the blind orientation that they like. Those who like the blinds drawn usually have an open door policy. Those who like the blinds open often close their doors when they were busy. Occasionally, people close both their blinds and their doors. You know not even to knock at that point -- just send an email.
  

I have noticed these various degrees of differences for so many things: expense coverage, printers, secretary coverage, furniture (obviously expensive, trying hard to be simultaneously expensive but not overbearing, and alternatively worn down and brand-spanking new), artwork, free/vending drink policies, free/vending snack policies, in-office services, library services, and more. It's amazing to me how much these things define what the office feels like long before you get to know the people. Career services and all successful attorneys I know say you should decide where you want to work based on the people, but I'm noticing that the environment says a ton to me about the people that the people themselves don't even know. And when I try to get to know the people, I can't help but notice that on some level they are busy, at least vaguely aware that they need to be covering their butts, and, in general, not my "friends." This is not to say that they will not grow to be so. But, to pretend otherwise and choose a future career based on the "friends" I've made this summer seems odd to me. I'd rather decide by the environment, how I feel overall, and the work. But that's just me.

A two hour tour

Today, I spent two hours looking over some agreements for a partner for whom I've done quite a bit of work. At the end, the documents were almost completely covered with highlighter. I know she'd sent them to me in hopes I'd review them, catch a few things worth noting, point them out, and, you know, actually make her life easier. I'd done this on a few other assignments this summer and she seemed to like my feedback.

Today, instead of making her life easier, I walked into her office and had to admit that I had no idea where to start, what to highlight, whether the general structure of the agreements was something worth getting worked up about or not, etc. She grimaced, told me that wasn't what she was hoping for, and added it to her to do list.

I'm serious, guys, I was fascinated by this agreement because I'd never heard of anything like it. And I had no clue what kind of opinion I was supposed to have about any of it. It was all building blocks I'd seen before, but put together in a configuration beyond my wildest imagination. It took me almost two hours to confirm that I really was completely clueless on this one and had no value to add. I knew the partner was too busy to walk me through it, so I just sucked it up, walked in, explained that I didn't know how to handle it, and walked out. At least she was nice about it.

It's good to know that there's plenty of room to learn new stuff at firm #1 -- I was concerned that I might get bored with my future career, but if the last few weeks are any indication, I'm going to be thrilled. So while my efforts were a waste of the firm's money in the short term, it was probably one of the best investments they've made thus far, in terms of getting the talons in.

Ready to drink the kool-aid and sell my soul. Sign me up.

The bummer of silence

I've got lots to say about my summer associate experience thus far. But most of it just isn't appropriate for blogging.

It sucks, because my thoughts on the law firm experience at this firm, how I fit, how I don't and the industry generally are most likely way more entertaining than my what I did this weekend posts.

But, enough people know who I am, and many more could figure it out if I gave details, so I have to exercise discretion.

Right about now, I'd love to vent and figure out how I feel about this stuff by writing and re-writing and finding exactly what it is that I want to say to the world who reads my blog (who, for the most part, or at least 50%, are strangers to me). But, that option isn't available to me because at the end of the day, I really like practicing law. And that whole attorney-client privilege thing, plus the importance of showing that you are trustworthy and understand the importance of taking actions to prove that point keep my lips sewn shut.

Suffice it to say that no matter how much I thought I had it figured out, I was wrong. I've got more information now and I'm confused. Things I thought would be major issues to contend with just don't exist. Major issues have arisen that I hadn't previously considered. I can't believe how lucky I am to be exposed to all of this.

Oh, and I'm tired. In that good way that you get tired while traveling in a country where you don't speak the language. That alone tells me I like this stuff because I'm struggling each day to understand and learn in a foreign environment that is becoming less foreign with each passing day, but still is nothing close to home.

Angie

In case you were wondering, Angelina Jolie is hotter than ever in Mr. And Mrs. Smith. The movie is pretty good if you're an Angelina fan and decent if you're not. The dialogue is amusing in many places because the screenwriters realized it needed some comedy to relieve the cheese factor of the unbelievable violence, sexual tension, and general ridiculousness.

In short, if you like to look at pretty people, it's got both brad and angie and it's WAY easier to sit through than either of the tomb raiders.

Summertime Socializing

This weekend, we'd scheduled a relaxing weekend at home. We picked a bad weekend to attempt to relax and do nothing, however, because we are blessed with much to celebrate:

P got her masters in Mechanical Engineering. In one of those true acts of loyalty, I actually sat through the entire ceremony so that I could cheer for her. Then E joined me and P's family for a very late, oh-too-filling dinner of singaporean specialties. I went out on a limb and ordered chili crab for the first time. It was good stuff and I was about to explode when we left. I don't care if the chili sauce originated to mask the lack of freshness of the crab, it's a brilliant innovation in food and I was excited to enjoy it.

MH got his bachelors after a 10-plus-year twisting path through his secondary education. I never doubted he'd finish if that was his goal, but it was still an excellent excuse to go visit with his family and hang out with old family friends, so E and I drove across the bay and spent saturday afternoon at the H's.

Today, T & B had a "yeah-it's twins" baby shower, again, across the bay, only farther north. Additionally, unlike your ordinary baby shower, which is just for the ladies and uncomfortable for the others, this one was a barbeque for families and friends of all sexes and included a keg and a DJ. We arrived to learn that they'd also gotten married this weekend, so the celebration wasn't just double the fun, but triple. We were glad we'd made the drive to celebrate with them.

From T&B's, we headed to W's to check out his new house and to say congratulations on the house buying. The house is gorgeous, huge, with amazing views, and yet another thing well worth celebrating.

We made a quick stop home to change into nice clothes and then headed out to bear's graduation dinner. It was wonderful to see our mutual friends, his parents (it had been at least two years), his siblings, and to meet the extended family about whom we'd only heard stories. Go bear. Congrats.

And now, we're home. We're exhausted. The weekend is over and we could really use another one. Starting tomorrow night, we've got a week full of social activities lined up (some associated with the law firm, others chosen by ourselves).

This happens every year. I can't complain -- it's all fun. And no doubt, next summer, when I'm studying for the bar, I'll be wishing I could be going from party to party. But boy, it's always amazing to me when I realize that the idea of a relaxing summer weekend is a myth for us. Perhaps next weekend.... (right)

Two Words

Ugg Slippers

Yeah. I made fun 'til I tried 'em on too...

Now, I'm a happy sucker just like the rest. Thanks to E for the birthday present.

What will they discover next?

Turns out, oxytocin, that lovely hormone associated with female orgasm, birth contractions, and lactation is now also scientifically shown to increase the feeling of trust between those under its effects and those they encounter. No wonder so many of my women friends complain about being idiotic suckers for men who are good in bed.

Perhaps I need to snort some oxycontin and bask in the wonderfulness of my fellow planet dwellers. Oh, excuse me, I thought I was good old Rush Limbaugh for a second there.

I meant oxytocin. No really, I did.

Trust me.

Real Life

I visited my grandfather last weekend. It was a beautiful weekend in the San Luis Obispo valley where his ranch is nestled. It was hard to hug him and admit that his time is near, and yet, it was wonderful as well -- he's got an ailing heart and to the best of his cardiologist's guess it's probably going to stop ticking while he's still in control (albeit easily tired) of the rest of his body and mind. He's at peace. He's accepted his passing. It's us who have the trouble with acceptance.

After arriving home last night, I called R. We talked for a while and I managed to keep my emotions in decent check. But, I decided I needed to go for a drive. I put my phone in my purse (headset was already on) started the car, and drove away. Two houses down the block, the phone beeped. I looked down to realize that rather than calling from my cell phone, I'd left the house with the portable phone. [Rad]

Quickly, I backed up, thinking I could reconnect with the signal and tell R I'd call back on my cell phone. But, by the time the phone reconnected, I heard "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and dial again..."

Right. I searched my purse for my real cell phone. No luck.

The portable phone rang again (as I was now in front of the house). I tried to answer. No luck.

Sheepishly, I walked back into the house to find E on the phone, talking with R and laughing. "Your cell phone is on your desk," E laughingly told me.

Right. So I do absent minded stuff like this all the time. But this one is pretty high up on the list. In fact, I don't know if this is worse or better than the time I hung the phone up by putting it in the freezer (where it was found by others, during a party...)

Faking it

Overall, I average somewhere near 50% introvert and 50% extrovert on the Myers Briggs scale. For a long time, people always told me I was an extrovert -- after all, I'm comfortable speaking in front of crowds, I enjoy performing, I like parties and new people. But then, I sat for a real personality exam once, and that person told me:

Introverts need to process what they think and feel by themselves before they share. Extroverts learn what they feel and think by sharing.

By that definition, I'm nothing but an introvert.

This whole summer full of events and multi-week long interviews: tiring. And I'm not even halfway done. Right now, I'd like to not be on. I'd like to not feel that I'm being judged by what comes out of my mouth every time I speak at work and every time I speak at social events. I'd like to relax. In particular, the social events weigh on me -- obviously, I've thought through the things I say related to work assignments before I speak, so that's not so tiring. But at "getting-to-know-you" events -- half the time, I haven't given much thought to the stuff being asked. I have opinions, but I'm not sure I'm ready to share them. Perhaps they're only half-baked. Perhaps they're too personal to share. Perhaps I'm better off being quiet. But rarely is it appropriate to be quiet. So, I find myself sharing my opinions and offending. Or worse yet, it is appropriate to be quiet. But I'm not, because I'm so confused.

If I was an extrovert, I wouldn't be tired by the effort of pre-processing everything and I wouldn't be so concerned about the impression I was giving as I sorted my thoughts when it was more appropriate to be quiet. So, I guess the long-ago analysis was correct: despite all evidence to the contrary, I must be an INTJ and not an ENTJ. Bummer. I'd like to pretend I'm a good natural leader... but apparently, I'm more of a behind-the-scenes mastermind.

I feel like I was going somewhere with this. But where... I'm just not sure. Wish me luck.

The uncomfortable place

I'm really questioning what I want to do with my life these days.

Specifically, I'm wondering whether I'd be happier pursuing a career that may consume me along the lines of my natural talents where I stand a chance (albeit miniscule, and totally unappreciated unless it's completely born out) of being a star or would I prefer a career where I like but don't love the work, find it interesting but not consuming, and find some of the day-to-day responsibilities difficult for me because they are contrary to my native state, oh, and where I know I'll never be a super star (but damn my non-work life would rock)?

E thinks I'll definitely choose one of my options over the other. E also refuses to tell me what that option is. So, I forced E to write down the choice and we put it in an envelope, dated and initialed by each of us. After I finally accept a job, the loser of the wager will take the winner out to dinner at the restaurant of the winner's choosing.

It's a much bigger decision than it sounds: destroying and fighting versus building and growing, delivering quick-clever blows versus constructing slow, dim-witted shields, interacting with people who choose their careers for comfort versus those who choose them for passion, and many other decisions. Each carries its own positives and negatives. Each is huge. And in the end, it's not up to me. It all depends on whether they want to hire me.

Regardless, I'll be sure to keep you in the loop about the eventual decision and more importantly, the restaurant (two words: french laundry. I hope E is wrong...)

Il Buono #4, La fine

I'm exhausted. I started the day with a 4 mile run with D, a snack on left-over
cowboy caviar from the last barbeque and the news from my sister that my grandfather is not doing well. His answer to "How are you?" is a feeble, "I'm still alive."

He's led a rich, full life. But now, in his eighties, his body is breaking down, he has a walker, his heart can't pump enough blood to keep his body as useful as it once was, but his head is intact enough that he must witness and feel the pain of every day of his inevitable decline. He and my grandmother have outlived the majority of their friends, which on its own has been a very painful experience. Over the last few years, family members have been constantly warning us about my granfather's slowly declining health. But each time I visited, he seemed only slightly worse than the time before -- blissfully healthy and stubborn. I had faith in his ability to hang on.

Today, my sister arrived at home to cry on my shoulder about papa's attitude of acceptance of what she perceives him to see as his soon-to-be death. You just don't talk bluntly about these things in my family, it's all subtle hints and actions I can't adequately describe, hence why it's her perception of his perception. What was worse for me, however, was her description of his health, and that his opinion of the end of his time might be reasonable. Regardless of whether it's true, I think that will to live (and be healthy) is a huge factor that is not well-enough understood in the health community to be given its true weight. In other words, if she feels that he's acting like he's done, I'm scared.

So, for the second time this running season, I'll probably be missing a race I'd planned on running. I'd already decided to opt out of the the napa to sonoma half marathon (I swear I'll get a flat one in one of these days) because it was the same weekend as a law firm activity that seemed like it was important to attend. Instead, I decided to replace napa-to-sonoma with the Forest of Nicene Marks Half Marathon, right down the street from E2's house (after all, what's a 1,000 feet gain in the first 7 miles -- the rest is downhill, right?). But, now, it looks like my brother's family (including my niece, for whom I'm a sucker), my sister, my father, E and I will all be making a surprise trip to visit papa next weekend. Obviously, if the family comes together like that, I'm out of the race.

This morning, I called to check in with my grandmother and she wasn't her usual upbeat self. When I asked if E and I could visit next weekend, she said, "we make plans on a day-by-day basis these days, so no, we don't have any plans for the weekend. I'd rather just wait and see." It broke my heart. The approaching death of one you love who's lead a full rich life is such a real drama, full of pain and love and acceptance and guilty anger. I know how lucky I am to have grandparents with whom I've been close since childhood and grown able to relate to as adults. I know how lucky they are to have lived to see their great-granddaughter. And yet, I don't want to let go.

So, I'll take any prayers, waves, good thoughts and whatever other pull you've got to send his way so he can have a good weekend with his family next weekend. Yes, it's not the zen attitude, but I'd love it if some force could sustain him 'til the wedding. I also know that if he's tired and sick and ready to be done I wouldn't want to keep him here any longer than he wants.

The rest of the day was a bright beautiful contrast to my feelings about my grandfather's sickness. First, I joined D for a gossip-filled manicure -- Damn my nails look good. Then, E and E's parents picked me up and we all walked across the golden gate bridge (embarrasingly, the first time E & I have done that despite over a combined 16 years in the bay area). As far as memorial days go, we couldn't have asked for anything better: it was warm and clear and windy, the bay was full of sailboats and a few insane windsurfers, a few small planes were flying about, and in general, I was awed and thankful to live in such a beautiful place. From there, we went to north beach, got cappuccinos (in the afternoon, the horror!), and sipped them on benches in Washington Square while we people-watched and recovered from the golden gate winds.

Dinner was a blissfully low-key sushi date at Sanraku with E's parents' friends. No rehearsal dinner evaluation. Just some of the best sushi in the bay area (mmmm... hamachi toro and bon maguro), sake in boxes, and mochi. Seriously. I like to think I know my way around sushi, but I'd forgotten just how superior this place was to our local cheap joint where they know our name. It'll be hard to go back next week (but we'll power through).

Now, I'm home, and full to the brim, both physically and metaphorically. Ordinarily, a holiday weekend at home is a chance to relax and unwind. But this one managed to be simultaneously relaxing, emotionally draining, and ridiculously productive: I fit in 17.5 miles of running, another 4 or so of walking, 4 multi-course gourmet meals at bay area restaurants (3 of which are on the short list for the rehearsal dinner), two trips to the wedding venue, a visit and semi-final sign off on the hotel where we'll be tossing the guests for the weekend, a meet-the-fockers' type dinner between my parents and E's parents, three days of sightseeing with E's parents driving and me generally not involved in the organization (this lack of control is particularly taxing on me, but good for me, no doubt), winetasting at 3 santa cruz mountaian wineries, a sad but realistic conversation with my sister about my grandfather (followed by calls to my father and brother), a short visit with D, who no longer lives in town, and probably one or two short-tempered snaps at E, who no doubt did not deserve them.

It was a good weekend. But I am glad that it is over.

Il Buono #3

Kingfish restaurant. Good stuff. Better space options for the rehearsal dinner than the other locations we've visited. Decent Jambalaya according to the southerners, so that's a good thing.

The meal came after a long day of bay area fun including brunch in los gatos and winetasting at Testarossa, Savannah Chanelle, and Ridge. All three grow a few grapes and source many more from some of the best vineyards in California. They all do wonderful things with the grapes. Between the beautiful weather, the gorgeous scenery, the curvy mountain roads, the great wine, and way too much food, I'm in sensory overload mode.

Il Buono #2

Today was a perfect day to begin the holiday weekend. First, E2 and I dragged ourselves out of bed to slug through 10.5 miles in the surprisingly muggy heat. Neither of us were particularly into it, but with a half-marathon next weekend, there's not really any easy way to bail on the long run this weekend. So, we struggled through the mileage with a bit more walking than normal.

Thankfully, after a shower, much water guzzling, and a quick lunch, my reward was to be a passenger on the gorgeous drive up the hill to show E's parents Thomas Fogarty winery ("this is where we would have liked to get married, but BT wanted to get married in March, which meant no guarantee that the outdoor facilities would suffice..."). We tasted their delicious wines, and talked the rents into importing a case back to the South. Then we checked out the supposed hotel base for the wedding. We toured the guest rooms, bar, and cafe and decided it'll work, and I sighed with relief at one more detail crossed off the list with relatively low effort on my part (plus they have a free airport shuttle).

From there we headed to the wedding location where we glanced around the grounds. It was a gorgeous day to see the facility and E's parents approved of the selection, so that was good. But, another wedding was about to start, so we high-tailed it out of there and headed for this evening's dinner location, Iron Gate restaurant in Belmont. My parents joined us for a very long, very delicious, thankfully not too embarassing, meet the in-laws dinner. E and I avoided father fighting by picking up the tab ourselves and the evening ended with a group photo of all of us in front of italian carved door scenes.

As far as dining goes, Iron Gate could not have been more different than last night's dinner at pisces if it tried. Where pisces was small, light, airy, clean, and modern, this restaurant was large, dark, full of dark wood (including medieval italian door panels with carved scenes titled, "the harvest," "the hunt," "the kill," and "the war"). Where pisces had little-to-no-excuse for a bar, this restaurant had an almost full fledged dive-bar attached, TV playing sports before dinner and blues band after dinner and all. Where pisces had a fish-full menu, Iron gate had more steak and veal options than I've seen in a long time. Pisces was full of the young and the hip. Iron Gate had several apparent octogenarians, including one birthday, and the crowd reminded me of French grandparents.

The only trait the two restaurants shared was excellent french-influenced cuisine. Truth be told, pisces is more french-inspired california cuisine, whereas Iron Gate reminded me of several restaurants I visited in the suburbs of Bordeaux. For a good steak dinner, Iron Gate is now on the list. But for a seafood tasting menu, pisces is impossible to beat. Regardless of which restaurant E's parents choose for the rehearsal dinner, I'm glad I had the opportunity to try both of these restaurants. I can't wait for tomorrow's selection.

Il Cattivo

I already believed that sun was good for you. I mean, I feel better when I get sun. But, then again, I feel better after a glass or three of wine too. So, it's understandable that I desperately want these folks to be telling the truth.

But deep down. I know it's like everything else: if it feels good, it's bad for you. But so is stress. Take your pick.

Il Brutto

Mid-summer review: okay. Not great. Turns out, my personality lends itself to some interactions that send very different messages than those I'd like to be sending. Kudos to the firm for being honest with me about this. Bummer for me, though. Makes me think I may just be better off in litigation where my natural personality is an asset instead of a liability.

Il Buono #1

My parents-in-law-to-be are in town for the holiday weekend. We're eating our way through the best restaurants near the wedding location to select the rehearsal dinner location. Tonight's selection: Pisces. It's been remodeled. It's supposedly better than ever although I never experienced the ever part of that equation. It's definitely impressive in terms of food quality, though.

The tuna tartare was recommended by several people. They were not wrong. The tasting menu, at $55/person is probably one of the best values in the entire bay area for multiple-course, high-quality food. Tonight's courses included the famous tuna tartare, a crab cake sauteed in panko, stewed beef in a red wine sauce with provencale vegetables for which I requested the recipe (our server apologized but the chefs felt the recipe was too simple to write down, just goes to show, some things are earned through experience only--I'll use the same ingredients and follow his instructions, but I guarantee it will not turn out the same), a side dish of your choosing (baby asparagus with pancetta for me), and dessert... wow. I'm not a big dessert person. But this lemon sorbet custard in a hard tart shell over a raspberry reduction, amazing.

And of course, there was wine. We started with a full-bodied, very typical fruit-full and light on the dirty-funk-that-pinot-can-be bottle of Foley pinot noir. It was a good find and I felt like a good California wine guide for the Southern in-laws. The second selection, a bottle of Robert Sinskey pinot noir was very different in style. More complex, more subtle, and a longer finish. I know people who like this type of wine. Unfortunately, none of 'em were at the table and we all prefered the Foley. Oh well, it wasn't bad by any measure, just lighter and difficult to appreciate in the face of rich food and the heavier, fuller, richer Foley. We were in heaven and ready for bed by 9:00 PM. Also, the service was impeccable, and although that may have had something to do with sitting for dinner at 5:45 PM and being the only patrons in the entire restaurant (ahhh... east coast guests), it never went downhill as the courses continued and the restaurant filled up. One bonus: when the restaurant is full, the trains aren't as loud, because although the location in the old train station is quaint, when the place is empty, each passing locomotive is quite an event.

Stay tuned for the remaining restaurants of the weekend.

Another 52nd of 2005 -- Gone

When did it become the fifth month of 2005? Wasn't it just New Years? Am I the only one who's shocked at how fast time is flying these days?

As for my lack of posts, well... I've been distracted. Work at firm #1 has picked up, as have the social events. So I'm pleasantly busy and amazed at how much money and time this firm spends on its summer associates. I'm thankful, of course, and it's fun, but it is a bit disconcerting. Why do they feel the need to make it like disneyland? Shouldn't the work in and of itself plus a few get-to-know-one-another events be enough to convince us that we want to come back? Obviously, I'm not a recruiter, and word on the street is that very few people refuse an offer from firm #1, so they probably do know what they are doing. But I can't help feeling slightly guilty at being the well-paid recipient of so many lunches, events, and training sessions. It feels slightly wrong. I think I need to work on my sense of entitlement.

E & I spent the weekend in Santa Cruz for H & P's wedding. They got married on the beach and it was the best weekend weather that the bay area had seen so far this year. It might have been a little too good -- the groomsmen in the tuxes under the 80+ degree sun didn't look so comfortable. It was interesting to sit through a wedding ceremony with the knowledge that we'll be going through those motions in a few short months. I also had enough conversations with past and future brides to know that I'm slacking and need to get my butt in gear if I want to have all of the details covered in time. RAD.

Other than that, I don't have much to report. I'm very tired after a weekend of catching up with friends I hadn't seen in years, too much drinking, and not enough sleep. And, I'm even more exhausted because I'm insane and I managed to fit in a 12-mile morning run (okay, so it was 10.5 miles of running and 1.5 of walking) with E2 on Saturday. Today, before the post-wedding barbeque, E and I walked around on the beach at Seascape and decided it definitely belonged on the prospective weekend getaway list. Now, all we need to do is magically line up the time and the money to get away...Famous last words.

I expect to report back on catering tastings in the next few weeks. See, if I write it, I've got to follow through. Or something like that.

Scary but True

Somewhere in the middle of bay to breakers today, I found myself giving my mother an explanation of the functionality of a cock-ring.

Other than that, it was a good day.

Thoughts on getting off the beaten path

The last few weeks, I've been thinking quite a bit lately about applying for clerkships. Because it seems like life is trying to tell me that it may not be the best plan for me. And I'm slowly starting to listen.

Letters of Recommendation. One of my professors who previously promised to write me a letter of rec has decided not to respond to my email asking for confirmation that she'd definitely have time to write the letter before the school-mandated clerkship deadline. Sure, I could bother her with a follow up email during the grading period for finals, but the little voice in the back of my head is thinking, "if you have to beg for a letter, how good can it be?"

Advice from the experts. Recently, I went to lunch with the partner I worked for last summer. We talked quite a bit about clerking at the district court level and his perception that in silicon valley, outside of academia, it doesn't hurt, but it definitely doesn't help as much as people believe it does. For example, in his opinion, it may help you move from the person who the litigation firms wouldn't consider to one they might, but it probably won't help you all that much if you are already considered a decent find. He was quick to point out that the valley's perception of clerking was quite different than New York firms' perceptions, where it really does help. But, I have no interest in moving to New York and working at a firm there. In fact, I won't even know if I'm interested in litigation 'til AFTER the majority of the work to apply for clerkships is due.

Furthermore, it was his opinion that an externship probably gives one the same exposure to the legal process without requiring a missed year of firm life. Yes, some firms will give you parity and bring you in as a second year associate if you clerk, but it really doesn't count in terms of your actual status since you're treated as a first year as far as the work the partners will trust you with and how much actual experience you have as an associate at that firm.

He's not alone. I've talked with quite a few partners about this issue. And every partner with whom I've discussed this issue agrees -- it's just not that helpful for someone like me unless I get a clerkship in my local area (where the intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the court and connections with the court can be quite helpful) or an appellate clerkship. The san francisco bay area? Yeah, those courts might be a little competitive. And in reality, the only appellate clerkship I've got a real chance of getting is the Federal Circuit. Which, don't get me wrong, I'd really enjoy, but it would require a move to DC.

The Significant Other. E has a job here. E and I can't do a long-distance relationship. So, I have to limit any clerkship applications to places where E could work. That throws the Eastern District of Texas and many tropical locations out of the running. When you combine E's need to work and my desire for technology-related cases, it limits me to applying only to locations that are the most competitive.

Laziness. On paper, I'm not as competitive as the majority of the people who will be getting the clerkships that meet my requirements. Applying for clerkships is quite a bit of work. So, I'd be doing quite a bit of work to apply for a few shots in the dark. My time could be much better spent doing other things...

Finances. So, basically, best case scenario, I'd be taking more than a 50% pay cut to move to DC, and take E away from the best place for work in the software industry. I'd refused to consider the money issue until recently. But once I started thinking about it, it was a compelling reason to just not apply right now.

I'm not the kind of person who lets money get in the way of their dreams. First, I figure out what I want, then I figure out how to pay for it in a way that is acceptable to me. But, with the clerkships, I'm not starting in a vacuum. I've already got goals that clerking needs to compete with: specifially, I want to travel and I want to retire early.

That 50% pay cut in the first year of my earning career after a three year break would really push things back, financially speaking. Add the fact that we may have to move and pay the mortgage (or at least subsidize it while someone pays us rent) while ALSO paying for rent in another city and it's more like a 75% pay cut. And did I mention we're getting married--yeah, that's some debt I'd like to pay down during my first year as a lawyer, but it will not happen if I take that pay cut and we are paying more in housing costs.

The real issue. Yes, I know that no one clerks for the money. Rather, I've been told that people who aren't into the academic prestige and connections clerk because it's the best experience of their legal career, and "the best year of their life." After my externship, I could see how the best experience of the career bit could be true. But, I'm not in a hurry to have the best experience of my legal career. If it's really all downhill after clerking, maybe I could do it a few years down the line, if I still want, and the pay will be higher and I'll know what I'm missing in terms of leaving the firm.

In fact, once I consider that I can apply for clerkships after a few years of working, then the only reason to take the pay cut, move, etc, now is because everyone else is doing it. But, career-wise, money-wise, relationship-wise, and life goal-wise, it doesn't make that much sense for me, so why exactly would I follow the crowd?

Since I accept that it wouldn't be that helpful for my career, I'd be doing it because it was a great life experience (admittedly, a great reason to do things). I'd be looking for "the best year of my life" I've heard so much about. But once we get into that category, then I've got to consider that in terms of life-experiences, as it stands right now, I'd rather travel around the world on a year-long grand sight-seeing tour of the world than clerk. And that trip costs money. If I do it the way I want to do it, it'll cost much less than 50% post-taxes of my first year associate pay. In short, I'd rather spend the money on travel than on purchasing the privilege of clerking.

So, perhaps I'm better off going straight to work for a few years, paying down my debt, and then deciding if I'd rather clerk or take that world tour, or just drop out of life and open an ex-pat bar on an island somewhere. Because, really, I'm not part of that crowd. Most of the reasons that make sense to them don't make sense to me. So maybe I don't need to compile a billion envelopes and send them off next labor day.

I reserve the right to change my mind again, of course...

Stream of consciousness from a summer associate trying to sponge it all in

Do I like this work? Is this work indicative of what I'd actually be doing as a first year associate?

Is that person really happy? They have to know I have no clue about this stuff. But they asked me to do it anyways. So, I guess I'll go learn it and do it.

Was that joke mean, or funny? Are these people happy? Do they really like each other? In humor is truth, and there are a lot of insults flying around under the guise of jokes. But it seems comfortable and friendly, not menacing. Am I missing something?

Is there enough work to go around? Is most of it interesting? Wait, maybe there's too much work so no one has time to give work to summer associates today? That girl was definitely here 'til all hours the night before, and the night before that, and last night, she mentioned something about driving home at 2...

Was she here 'til 2 AM last night because she wanted to be, because she had to be, or because that's just her gig? Is she on a one time deal, or is this standard and you just have to do it a few times a year if you work here? Would I mind? Would I get excited and actually like the hours? Would that be a problem for my relationship?

Did that missed typo destroy the partner's perception of everything else in the memo? Am I doing enough work? Am I bothering attorneys by asking them for work?

Could I be eating any more food?

Re-inspiration

So far this year, I've ran:

the friendship run (but only 10 miles)

the skyline ridge half-marathon

and

golden gate headlands half-marathon

I ran the friendship run below a 9 minute mile pace and was fairly stoked. Then the hills of skyline and the golden gate headlands kicked my ass and I learned that a sub-9-minute-mile half-marathon will require a flat course for me.

So, I'm registered for a few more runs this year, most of which are blissfully flat. To date, the tenative line-up of races (okay, let's be honest, they're group runs the way I do 'em) for the remainder of 2005 includes:

bay to breakers which I'd planned to walk with my mom and sister, but now my step-dad has gall-bladder surgery scheduled, so mom may not make it, which would suck if mom couldn't come, but could mean that sis and I could run it.

Escape to Lands End -- Either a 10K or a 20K. It's still tentative, but seems like a good idea as a training run for the next run.

napa to sonoma wine country half-marathon -- where I'm hoping to break the 9 minute mile half-marathon obstacle. This means I need to get my butt in gear.

America's finest city half marathon (San Diego) -- with D and possibly R, an excuse to go down to Southern California and hang out with my bay-area-fleeing friends.

The nike half marathon -- Another tentative one, but good weather and an opportunity to run with D who will be in town for college football make it a promising suspect.

And finally,

The US half (san francisco) -- where I'll set a reasonable time goal based on the earlier races and run across the Golden Gate Bridge.

The point is, I needed to motivate.

I ran 6.1 miles today. Slowly. On the treadmill. In the gym. I haven't been treating my body very well. I've been slacking for the last month. My feet hurt after the run and I probably need new shoes, which are expensive and annoying since this pair only has 325 miles on 'em. (Of course, several of those miles were in the rain, mud, and ocean, hence why the shoes feel like lead when I run, plus, they feel like I'm cutting it close to some nasty blisters since the insteps are worn in weird ways.)

But now, after writing about my plans for the year, I'm motivated. Starting tomorrow, I'm going back to the healthier ways I'd had from Jan to early April. I enjoyed the way I felt. I had fun. And, I had an insatiable appetite that showed no negative effects on my physique. That alone, when combined with summer associate gorge-fest is reason enough. But for some reason I needed to spell it all out.

And now, as I suspected, I've got the motivation I needed. I'll buy the shoes. I'll run the training miles. Odd. But whatever works, I suppose.

Party Salad/Salsa

D is moving to San Diego. R already moved to LA. As did N. I feel like everyone is leaving for Southern California. At least with D's departure, I'm not just losing the one of my closest friends, I also gained:

10 cans of corn
10 cans of garbonzo beans
10 lbs of jasmine rice
A box of chocolate covered pretzels
Mustard
Worsteschire sauce

(Clearly, D shops at Costco.)

One of my favorite things in the world is to be stuck with random ingredients and to find a way to put them together into something inspired. When I succeed, I feel like an artist. Unfortunately, I did not find a way to combine all of these ingredients--I have not reached that level of nirvana. So, I'll have to deal with them individually.

Jasmine rice, it's a staple, and one I don't have thanks to the grain moth debacle. So I'll easily find a way to use it over the next year. Mustard and Worsteschire are also staples in the flavoring/marinating camp, particularly now that barbeque season has officially started. The garbonzo beans could be a problem if I hadn't already put falafel, hummus and this recipe for Channa Masala on my food-to-make-soon list.

But corn? What could I do with canned corn? Chowder? It's spring and soon will be summer (I'm optimistic despite the rain today), so that doesn't seem right. Fried corn fritters -- okay, but 10 cans worth? That's a hell of a lot of canola oil. Corn pudding? Maybe once, but it really doesn't grab me, it'd be a pity use of the corn at best.

So, I settled on pawning it off on the barbeque attendees in the form of a black-bean & corn salad or salsa. It was surprisingly delicious. I received more compliments on this thrown together concoction than I have for many, much more complex and difficult dishes. So, I'll share:

Corn & Black Bean Salsa/Salad

3 cans corn
3 cans black beans
1/2 huge red onion (probably one regular-sized red onion)
6 roma tomatoes
2 large bunches of cilantro
4 cloves of garlic
lemon juice (I cheat and use the bottled kind)
chili oil (could probably get away with olive oil and jalapeno, but I had it laying around)
olive oil
spices to taste (I used white pepper, black pepper, garlic salt, and paprika).

1. Dump the canned ingredients into a strainer in the sink. Let the juices drain while you work.

2. Chop the onion and tomatoes. Throw them in the strainer.

3. Combine the cilantro, stems and all (I only used 1.5 bunches), chili oil, lemon juice, garlic, and spices in a cuisinart or blender. Puree, add lemon juice and olive oil if needed until it's the consistency that you like for pesto. (I did two batches, one that was more smooth and another that was made up of visibly small chunks/leaves of cilantro, the combination worked well).

4. Dump the strainer's contents into a big bowl. Top with the cilantro sauce. Mix and serve with corn chips or on its own. Enjoy!

Slip of the Eyes

I just was at some porn stupid web site that had a blinking animated GIF ad in the top ad space.

You know that space? The portion of the screen that your brain filters out because it's always useless ads?

Well, this time, I was doing a good job of ignoring it but the thing was blinking and the letters kept getting bigger until finally, I had to look.

Because, I SWEAR --

the ad just wouldn't back down, it kept growing in its taunts of me and calling me

BIOTCH!!!

Only, no. Because when I finally let my real brain process the ad, I found it to be an advertisement for BIOTECH!!!

Right.

Week One -- Report

Too much food consumed! There's a policy that summers must be taken out to every lunch for their entire summer. Ridiculous. I'm going to explode. Every associate is ready to cash in on the firm-sponsored lunch and so they propose some long, filling, caloric disaster. I play my role appropriately and say yes. I like food, so I eat it. I'm already visibly more plump.

Interesting work. After orientation, I've been given two assignments. Both concern topics that I find fascinating and about which I don't know much. The partners and associates seem to have tons of these small, new, interesting tidbits to deal with at the same time. Seems like a very cool way to make a living while satisfying intellectual ADD.

Very cool people. I can honestly say that the stereotype about boring, driven, mean, overbearing lawyers is not playing out here. It didn't at my previous firm either. I wonder if it's all a myth or if I've been EXTREMELY lucky.

Exhausted. Not so much with work, but with life. I finished wedding crap just in time to start work, take a day off to take a final, and then return to work. Having no plans tonight is exactly what the doctor ordered.

66.666666666% done

It doesn't feel real.

I took my exam today, but it just felt like a normal undergrad engineering exam. There were some problems, I had an idea of how to approach most of 'em. I felt reasonably certain that I did okay but the last 10-20% is luck. No big deal, it's just another chink in the armor. This is the first time a law school final has felt like that to me. It was a pleasant change.

I think part of the calm comes from the fact that the instructors were practitioners and the exam was very practical. Real world stuff? I'm confident that I can do a decent job. Theory? Who in the world is intelligent enough to analyze things in that void? Not me. Too many variables. Too many real world situations where the theory could be blown to smithereens...

Anyways, with that anticlimactic return to my roots, I'm 2/3 done with law school. Tomorrow I'm headed back to work at summer associate gig #1 (they paid me today and said I didn't have to make up the hours -- I must say, their generosity on that issue is going a long way to compensate for the lack of a welcome I felt on the first day). I've got two interesting assignments and I can't wait to dig in.

In the oh-shit-I-get-a-real-life-cuz-its-summer category, barbeque season is quickly approaching, with the kick-off scheduled for saturday. We're playing it close with rain predicted through friday with another storm to start on Sunday. So cross your fingers for us!

And now, I'm taking my where-did-the-time-go self off to french food with E to celebrate. We'll sip wine, eat many courses, and laugh over the things that are memorable about the last two years. All in all, I'm content with how I've approached this journey and I'm excited for the last year. I just can't believe that it's already here.

A Much Better Day

Still being oriented, but almost done.

No insults from anyone employed by the firm: good.

Mexican food from a hole in the wall with my fellow summer associate: amazing.

Returning to to be asked why we left on our own, lectured on how we should be taken out by associates every day, and then told we should turn in our receipts: wow.

Telling the head of recruiting that we had no receipts because the menu was in spanish, as was the receipt, which we didn't bother to keep since they only accepted cash, and really, it was worth it, and we'd probably do it again to get away from it all: priceless.

Plus, I got my first two assignments today and they are cool. Also, I met with my study group and feel reasonably prepared for my final tomorrow, which is awesome since I haven't read very many of the cases. Wish me luck, I suspect I'll need it. And, of course, the reservations at the local best-of-the-best restaurant for tomorrow night don't hurt my attitude one bit.

Off to print my notes for the open book exam...

One for the record books

I was inadvertantly (I hope) the recipient of an insult from one of the partners at my firm this morning. The recruiting manager tried to help the partner recover from his gaffe, but he wasn't having any of it. From my perspective, it looked like he was insisting on standing by his insulting words, although I'm sure he had a different perspective.

Then, despite assurances to the contrary, my partner mentor (a different partner) never showed up for mentor lunch. No doubt she had an important client call come up and couldn't make it. I understand--and on its own, her absence wouldn't make me think twice, but when added with the insult from breakfast, I'm beginning to question whether I'm missing a very blatant message. It was my first day, after all...

Of course, that line of thought died when I got a nice reality check on the unintended messages I am capable of sending. My phone rang after my evening run. I'd mis-entered the study group meeting for my last class in my organizer and they were waiting for me. At that point, I was 15 minutes late, an hour away, and was certain that I didn't need to be there 'til tomorrow.

So, yeah. Tomorrow is another day. Preferably one with less sucktitude.

Reality Shows

I spent the last week or so knocking things off the to do list and visiting my brother's family, my mother's family, my father, and friends.

I'm all caught up. I've heard all about or seen enough to understand without discussing the latest developments, money problems, relationships problems, hurt feelings, joy, and frustration from the trials and tribulations belonging to each of these people.

At my brother's, I witnessed the frustration and the toll that raising a 3-year-old and supporting a family of three in California on less money per year than I will make this summer. It's hard. And I can't help but feel a compulsion to help. I also felt blessed to be part of the wonder that a brilliant 3-year-old can bring to any conversation: everything is new, wonderful, and fascinating. When did we lose that? Why do people think that money will make them happy? Maybe it just keeps you from being sad.

My mother was a typical mother-hen -- happy to see me and hungrily devouring each wedding detail I provided. Her joy at inclusion in the wedding plans is embarrassing -- it means more to her than I ever imagined, how did I not know?

My father was typical papa bear -- too gruff at times and awkward in his recovery, but funny, well-intended, and thankful for any time his kids could spare.

H's wedding is less than a month away, so my visit to catch up involved quite a bit of "thank-god-you-can-relate-and-even-if-you-can't-you-should" conversation. I left aware of more wedding details than I needed to hear, stories of more wedding-related family drama than I had even considered as a possibility, and a much firmer understanding of the reality of financial stress that comes with a wedding when the couple funds it themselves. It was a bit overwhelming.

After the trip home, I hosted R for a 3-day birthday visit consisting of many long (both drunken and sober) conversations on topics as varied as: the scarcity of resources, subway as the largest fast-food chain, gender roles, the beauty of highway 17, violence, the goodness of fried food, taxes, wedding atire and how it can go horribly wrong, foreign policy, caffeine, arsenic, and education. In addition to our fun, we fit in a visit to D during packing so we were able to pack up several boxes on D's behalf before the big move. What the hell else do friends since 6th grade do if they don't help one another move?

Finally, R & I headed to Santa Cruz, our traditional get-away-from-it-all town, for a night of good food, martinis, and great conversation with E2. After eating and drinking ourselves silly, we watched an easter procession at an orthodox church, and R & I finished up the night at Denny's, surrounded by high school kids. It was surreal.

Now, I'm home. My little sister has moved into the guest room for a while. I start my first summer associate gig tomorrow. I'm exhausted. And, nothing seems less important at the moment then the final I've got scheduled for Wednesday. This is a recipe for disaster.