Infinite Monkey Theorem. At Work.

Memorial Day Memo

Food:  Six Feet Under cheeseburger.  Radial pancakes (tasted like the batter was made from scratch - confirmed by owner).  Holy Taco quesadillas & mojito.  Bowls of cinnamon toast crunch.  This is why I need to start running again.

Work:  None.  "Uh.  We didn't know when you wanted to start."  "Can I borrow a giant red stamp that says "IMMEDIATELY" or "ASAP" and affix it to my application, please?"

Books:  Well, reading just one right now (despite what the list to the right says).  Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.  It is hilarious in a biting British way and really compelling.

Writing:  Wrote a few lines.  Liked them.

Addiction:  New PC game which is just an absolute blast.  Hesitant to talk about it too much for fear of revealing a whole new level of geekdom.

Exercise:  Interesting.  After nearly four months of working out five to six times a week, I stopped two weeks ago today because I needed a break.  Now I am excited to get back to the gym tomorrow and see what I can do.

Scary:  My partner's dad is sick.  They don't know what is wrong.  It's been six days in the hospital and 10 days since he knew something was not right.  Prayers, thoughts, chants, the drawing of mandalas, ecstatic dancing, offerings of incense, novenas to a Saint, pouring out a sip of liquor to the ancestors, or whatever else it is you might do, is deeply appreciated.  ; )

Surrendering

So far, law school is a fail.  Yeah yeah.  It's not me, it's the economy.  We haven't been in a similar situation in forever.

I entered the work force, fresh out of college and then 9/11 happened and I got laid off.  I went back to work for the job I had when I was in high school.  So that was pretty humbling.  Then I picked up another job which was copy editor/analyst/secretary/whatever was needed.  It was cool.  They gave me good bonuses.  Then my boss told me to blow him and things sort of went down hill.

So then I landed in another job and did really well in it.  Despite being a top performer, I wasn't paid all that well and decided to go to law school for a couple of reasons.  Mainly because I perceived attorneys to be highly desired (my mistake) by employers and because it would provide a much needed intellectual challenge.

I had a pretty shitty first year and a great second and third year.  But I'm not in the top third and not in the top half.  And I graduated four months before the crash.  The "sure thing" job I had entered into a hiring freeze.  Though they have a relatively quick attrition rate over there, the unsecure market has kept many attorneys from leaving.  I got an e-mail from a buddy of mine over there and it confirmed that they are in a "deep hiring freeze" and not just a light frost as I had hoped.

I have been turned down for more work than I care to think.  I don't want to open my own practice for a couple of reasons: I don't want the responsibility and I want to learn under someone else's wing.

But the credit card bills are piling up and my old boss at Trader Joe's was like "What's going on?"  And I was like "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing in this job market."  He told me he'd love to have me back.  And what sensible attorney can refuse that?

Initially, I think I was a little saddened at the prospect of returning to work at the place I worked before I had my JD.  Now I have a JD and I'll be working at the place I worked at before I had it.  Do you see a theme?

So yeah.  9/11 and 2008 crash.  They could not be more poorly timed in terms of me trying to get my life on track.  And I know that the market isn't out to get me (at least, I'm telling myself that).  Going back to work at Trader Joe's is the right thing to do: it'll get me some cash and give a little more structure to a life filled with reading novels and walking the dog and watching TV.  That's got to be helpful.

So I'm surrendering.  In a good way?  That's what I'm telling myself.  I'll still apply to jobs and try to get my legal career started.  But it does feel like a white flag is waving somewhere in my life.  And I hate that feeling.

Coffee Conversation

This is just a conversation I overheard.  I was not part of it.

"What?"
"We're out of iced coffee?"
"I don't understand."
"We don't have any more iced coffee."
"You don't have ice?"
"We have ice.  Just not any iced coffee."
"If you have ice and you have coffee, don't you have iced coffee?"
"No."
"Why can't you just pour the coffee over ice?"
"Oh.  I see.  Because the ice will melt and the coffee will be watery and gross."
"Oh.  So that's not how you make it when you make it normally?"
"No.  We let it cool on it's own.  That way it doesn't get watery."
"Oh."
Coffee Man, exasperated turns to me: "What can I get you sir?"
Tempted to say "Iced coffee please!" but instead: "Medium coffee for here.  No ice."

Holding

Sometimes when I'm talking on my cell phone, and doing something else like parking the car, I'll wrap up a conversation make my goodbyes and go on about my day.  Only to realize as I'm getting out of the car that I've still got the phone up to my ear as if I'm still talking to them.  Of course, it's just that I don't have enough sense to know what I'm doing.... but maybe more than that.

Thirty is three tens.  Which probably means something to a numerologist, but doesn't sound like anything to me.  Except maybe a generation and a half.  And maybe two fifteens.  And I thought that might be it.

But today, I wonder if maybe it means that you outgrow certain folks in your life and move on.  Or, alternatively, if they outgrow you and they move on too.  I'm the kind of person that has friends from third grade that I still talk to.  I kept in touch with folks who I went to after school care with when I was in fifth grade.  Maybe I need to stop holding on and start letting go a little more?

So maybe I overestimated.  Maybe it was more me than them.  Or maybe it was circumstances and once those circumstances changed, then it's no longer what it was. But, today, it just doesn't feel good because I didn't think it was circumstances, even if they did.  I really had a special place in my heart for these friends.  But I guess I just have to let it go, right?

Friendships are just a different iteration of relationships.  Maybe it hurts a little when they change, even if it is just the natural progression of things.  As my fairy godmother once said: "Different people come into your life for different reasons.  Some profound.  Some not.  Some just to have a martini with after a tough day.  They're all valuable.  In they own way.  Shit!  We're out of olives!"  Or something like that.

If you're reading this- I love you.  ; )

Things I've Thought (at least once)

Work.  Well I got a small independent contractor project for this week.  That's good.  Well, honestly, it's simply fucking marvelous.  I'm nervous to do it.  But I'm diving in bright and early on the project tomorrow with a finished memo-like work product to be delivered on Wednesday.  Yaaay.

Faulkner Fiends.  I think maybe 40% of all lawyers are just artists in an active hibernation-like state where they function as normal beings in their daily lives but somehow convince their artist selves to sleep.  How many years of piano, theatre, and dance can one person give up for legal unemployment?  Nearly every single attorney I know who has been practicing some time has some amazing creative talent.  They play classical guitar, take professional caliber photos, have finished novels, or pursue similar creative endeavors.  Almost like a sign from the Powers That Be, the Gods, or whoever is in charge of this ship of fools, at a happy hour with a fellow attorney I discover his fascination with "The Sound and the Fury" and how he wanted to bring Quentin's chapter to film.

The Task at Hand.  So what on earth would I do if I didn't have to worry about money?  Well, I suppose I'd live in a small farmhouse with my husband and dog.  I'd have a garden.  Spend lots of time reading.  Maybe learn how to play an instrument other than the piano.  Write my representatives more frequently to keep them on track.  Maybe I'd consider teaching English- someone has to keep the literary mysteries alive.  Maybe I'd finally write.  I'd visit my relatives more often and bring them food (they love when I cook something to bring them).

So What Stands in the Way?  I don't know.  Maybe I don't wake up early enough to work on a novel.  Maybe I just can't keep my head together to get work done.  But surely that can't be quite right.  I know I can do a substantial amount of work when it's expected of me (law school, passing the bar).  So maybe no one is expecting me to do anything.  Maybe I just lack a big idea.  I'll have to think of one up.  I'll let you know when I do.

Holler.  It's my favorite word of the week.  Not like "Holla at your boy."  But like "She just started hollerin' at me."  The correct use of the word is either "holler" or "hollerin'" but NEVER "hollering."

Snipet.  Something I wrote this week: "I am the flash of ink, the first reed put to paper and the last key stroke. / I am your hand bringing letters to life: a memory, a note, a question, a plea - the yearning to proclaim."  It will be part of something larger, I am sure.

Mixes.  Jessica made me a mix for my birthday last year and, it's official, I'm addicted to it.  She made the cover art out of a picture she took with her pin hole camera.  It was taken while we were in college (she built the camera for an art class).  It's us, everything in focus except for the things moving (which is funny because we are laughing and so our faces and heads are blurs but out legs and feet on the curb of the road are crystal clear).

That's all I know.  The list format is just plain convenient.  My attention is so scattered these days, that's about all I can focus on.  Surely the topics are somehow connected.

Oh.  And coincedentally, I redid my bathroom between the last post and this post.  I promise never to do that again (at least in the near future).

Placeholder

Since I've tried to write nearly four entries this week but backed off each one, this is going to serve as a marker.  A word is something, surely.

The Handmaid's Tale

What a great read!  Atwood deftly creates an America that, for some us, feels all-too possible.  It is the not-too distant future and a theocratic, Christian-based society has risen to replace the republic of the United States.  Her distopia faces a fertility crisis and has resorted to forced/enslaved surrogacy to repopulate their nation.

The story is told by Offred, one of the surrogates known as "Handmaids."  The idea of the Handmaids springs from Genesis 30:1-3, where Rachael, distraught at being unable to provide Jacob with children instructs him to go to her handmaid Bilhah so "that she may bear upon my knees, and I shall be able to have children through her."

Indeed, the inhabitants of Gilead lead a life that modern Americans may find a strange, bewildering cross between the early puritans and religious fundamental extremists such as the polygamous Mormon-esque groups out West or funamental Islamic groups such as the Taliban.  Women have become an explicit commodity and the Handmaids serve both governmental and religious interests while being given three shots at a live, viable birth before being declared "unwomen" and sent to a work colony.

Beyond the social envisioning and commentary, the prose of the book is mesmerizing.  Offred's voice is both strong and vulnerable, almost as if it traces every author's uncertainties and half-starts.  At several points in the book, after recounting something she will state that such event didn't happen like that or that, not wanting to talk about it, she would rather discuss some other event.  Offred's story recountsher journey from the Handmaid training center to her placement with a government official and his Wife (capitalized because the Wives are also a defined class of women) and, through memories and dreams, her life before the creation of Gilead and the political ruptures that created it.  It was hauntingly beautiful and I highly recommend it!

Rejection Protection

I should have an interview every week.  Every week, I tell you!  If nothing more than for when the last week's rejection letter comes in, I already have a decision pending with another firm/office!  One of the guys who interviewed me for the government job e-mailed me today to let me know it didn't happen.  He said he enjoyed the interview but that they had lots of outstanding candidates.  I really wish I could divine what didn't click.  I'm not willing to say "GAY!" but sometimes I do wonder with jobs whether there is a lavender ceiling.  I try not to worry about it too much and, well, I wouldn't want to work there if they didn't want to hire a 'mo.  Though, really, it could have been the fact that I don't have stellar academic credentials.  Hard to say.  And ultimately irrelevant.

So we're down to one and no interviews lined up for this week.  I need to find an interview this week quick!

The Eyes Have It

Whenever I go to the doctor, I get nervous.  It's probably a diabetic thing.  Having gotten some of the most life-changing news in my life from a woman in a white coat makes me nervous of people in white coats.  They run tests on you to see if your body is staging a coup.  They know things about you before you do.  Not fair.  Helpful, but not fair.

Against my better judgment I went to the eye doctor to make sure my eyes were working properly.  It was relatively painless.  The doctor was a quintessential doctor, though.  He read my chart, asked me one question and then chatted with the nurse about other patients (hello?  HIPPA?) while examining my eyes.  The nurse said she showed the patient pictures of what his eyes would look like if he doesn't take care of them to scare him straight.  I wanted to say "Honey, your bad attitude alone is probably sufficient to scare any man straight."  But I didn't say anything.

During the examination another nurse walked in, asked him a question about another patient (for the love of God!  HIPPA!) and left.  She didn't even excuse her ignorant self.

So my eyes are fine.  My glasses prescription is still good.  He said he didn't see anything of concern in the back of my eyes.  But I don't think I'll be going back.  My last optometrist (not even an opthalmologist) had better equipment and took pictures of my eyes.  And he was much sweeter and nicer.  I'll be going back to him for the next visit, that is fo' sho'.

Ramble Brambles

A Dream I Had This Week
I dreamed that I was in a group of people and we were working on some type of case or project and I couldn't speak so I communicated in sign language.  My hands moved so fast that they were blurs and I felt relieved at not having to speak out loud.

An Interview I Had This Week
A debtor-side bankruptcy firm.  The interviewer was a tad late.  Strange.  He told me about the position and asked me if I had any questions.  We talked about Chicago and I asked three questions (and I thought it was silly to prepare questions).  I don't know that I really had a lot in the way of opportunities to sell myself.  But it seemed like a good firm.  Like the last interview I had, this was brought about because a friend forwarded my resume to her firm's hiring partner.  Interviews from On-Line Apps: O.  Interviews from Friend Referrals: 100% success.  I think I'm seeing a theme.

Two Songs I Listened to This Week
Antiphona Ad Beatum Mariam Virginem "Salve Regina" by the Cistercian Monks of Stift Heiligenkreuz and the Fugee's cover of No Woman No Cry.  I swear if someone browsed my music library they would think I had many different personalities.

Three Story Ideas I've Had This Week
Number 1:  Rewriting the bible under contemporary circumstances.  I'm sure it's been done.  It's also such a large project that I'm not sure it would amount to anything.  Too big.  Too big.  Too many prophets and virgins.  And who really believes in miracles anymore, anyways, even when we really want to.  But don't tell me you wouldn't love to write a character like John the Baptist?  And tell me, too, that we don't have some archetypal need for saints?
Number 2:  While riding the elevator to my interview, it felt like I was flying (and I was because the interview was in a skyscraper on the 32nd floor).  On the way down, I wondered at the chance of a free fall.  I wished that there were glass windows in elevators so I could have appreciated how fast I was going.  Reference points matter there.  Then I thought about a man who gets into elevator as one person and leaves as another.  Then I thought that most of us do that everyday.  And I thought that could be a good story.
Number 3:  I saw on the History Channel (my newest addiction) that some guy thinks that most religious stories developed by way of aliens.  He pointed to Hinduism, which has stories of Gods flying around in aircraft and shooting each other and to Christianity, which has the story of God's angels descending to pick up Enoch and take him for a ride in a flying craft with a wheel at its center or something.  I didn't quite catch it all (Linus and I might have played Socks In Yo' Face somewhere in the middle), but the show sort of meandered and recounted the stories of the Nephilim and I thought "Wouldn't it be a hoot if long-long descendants of the Nephilim hadn't been wiped out by God and suddenly started growing wings during conference calls with their west-coast office or while stopping to get gas?  Essentially, what on earth would half-angels do today and would we be surprised who they were?  And would they be good, bad, or indifferent?  And would God be pissed?"

That's It.  You Can Stop Reading Now.