Happy

I really like my job - it makes me happy and hopeful that maybe law is actually going to be fun as opposed to the neverending stress of law school where you have to balance an amazing amount of other random and arbitrary activities which serve as either total timesucks or the obstacles on a steeplechase. (To add to that steeplechase analogy - there are a LOT of very crippled horses running it, including myself).

But at my job, I know everyone - the place has sort of self-selected for compatible personalities and we all know how to work hard. Maybe I should clean up my office once in awhile because it's kind of messy.

One unexpected source of bliss has been me challenging myself to doing yoga 30 times in 30 days. I started with the Beginning Yoga, but that got too easy too fast (I've done it a lot before back in my thinny days where I'm trying to return). So I got this DVD Kundalini Yoga for Beginners and Beyond by Ana and Ravi.

At first I thought it was retarded or maybe training for porn. It has this mystical cum electronica beat and the guy narrates over with this super new agey commentary which borders on giggle fest. The best part is watch the girl "dance" at the beginning - she's adorably awkward. Even this white girl can dance better that that. The beginner's workout (I'm not quite ready for the Tibetan rites yet) consists of all these weird back and forth thrusting breathing repitive motions which can get a bit monotonous after doing it for oh say 3 mins. The first time I did it I thought it was completely worthless. But I've recently returned to it consistently these days as an alternative to the other stuff and let me tell you - this really gets the tension out and makes me feel very calm - which is saying something these days.

Recommended! And a side-note it mysteriously has curbed my nicotine cravings. Yah!

Loss

A business my father spent twenty years of his life building into a multi-million dollar company literally went up in flames yesterday.

My father has recently moved on - largely because like me, he doesn't like having people tell him what to do when he can do it better. And we share the same disdain for indolent and useless rich families siphoning profits of the backs of the people who make them. Mercedes or workers' retirement plans? I'm starting to wonder if this might be arson. German cars raid corporate funds. Luckily, an investigation is underway - so we'll see.

It even made the Houston Chronicle. And the New York Times. Such strange advertisements.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/nation/5602654.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/08/us/08brfs-FIREFIGHTERS_BRF.html?ref=us


But still, such an eerie feeling to see a place I've known since a girl of 7 exploding on the evening news and taking with it 2 firefighters. Everytime I go home there seems to be figurative conflagrations all around. I suppose for once I should be grateful that one is occasionally literal.

RIP to so so much.

http://www.wsoctv.com/news/15525002/detail.html?rss=char&psp=news

Resolved

Resolved first - Serial killers:

Best as witty friends whose friendship has a pure and undeniable scarlet thread of pure sexual tension under the rippled surface of perplexed emotions that will never fully be resolved. Which gives you something to look forward to without all the added pressure of becoming something that you will never look forward to again.

Resolved second - Canadians

I still love them.

Resolved third - Bullying supervising attorneys at my clinic

Suck it.

Resolved fourth - People who still think it's okay to have their cell phones on vibrate during the MPRE

I hope the bar weeds you out. And if not, I hope you are my opposing counsel.

Resolved fifth:

I'm feeling much much better now.

Solitude

Let's get one thing straight ladies and gentlemen. This girl really really likes having time to herself. (To clarify - we are not speaking of the euphemism for masturbation here. I don't plan on blogging about masturbation and I'm sorry if you are disappointed by that fact. Perv!)

What I'm talking about is some good old-fashioned time alone to fancy, folly, and flitter away the hours enjoying only the demands of one's own company.

I think school did this to me. I like about 1.7% of the people at my school. For the rest, I'm pretty indifferent unless I have the fleeting thought that they are loud, obnoxious, and could do with eating a little humble pie and/or being exposed to hazardous chemicals.

Most of the time, though, I don't care because the majority of law students are encapsulated in a world of pure self-grandeur which unfortunately has been largely vindicated by the world, and promises to only get freakier as time goes on. Which is a funny thing to observe. I become an unwilling eavesdropper on many inane conversations such as:

1. Talk about baseball by boys who look like they could never pick up a baseball bat themselves or stop me if I tried to beat them to death with one;

2. Talk about how steep the curve is, which shows that it isn't steep enough because there are still people out there lame enough to believe that grading in law school isn't pretty much arbitrary;

3. Talk about how hard you are not working, which doesn't quite veil the fact you are actually working hard at making your hard work look effortless so everyone can assume you are a genius when you know very well that you are not;

4. Talk about how hard you ARE working - which just makes you tiresome (sadly, guilty);

5. Talk about American Idol or Top Model (unless made with irony or including the statement "I don't watch that crap.");

6. Talk about the random celebrity you met in a major city whose temporary ride on shallow fame might have rubbed off on you for the five seconds it took you to relate that pointless anecdote;

7. Talk about hair (also guilty, but working on it);

8. Talk about where you were on September 11th (for many in my class, that would be "in diapers");

9. Talk about your exotic vacation plans that goes beyond the fact that you will thankfully be very far away from me.

Some would call this anti-social. I call it Confucianism : as in, I only give a shit about you if I like you. Otherwise, I'd appreciate it if you lowered your voice because I don't care, I don't think you're important, and I do my best to stay out of your way. So please return the favor. Especially you, white yuppy guy on a cell phone at Mona's Cafe where I am trying to study Securities Regulations.

My one guaranteed zen moment of walking my dogs every day is my time to refocus and start trying to like people and not blog these crazy unforgiving things. And that is not possible if I am accompanied by a drunk neighbor who chatters aimlessly on, steals flowers from people's yards, and slows me down because she is in heels.

Also, if you keep trying to friend me on facebook and I keep ignoring you, you might want to get the point and stop trying. I have not let you into my club - and the membership is currently full.

All day I have incessant chatter. Sometimes, all I want is infinite silence.

Maybe the key to calm is simply always wearing earplugs. Or moving to a galaxy far far away.

Serial Killers

So, my temporary lapse into insanity has...um, relapsed. Therefore, for everybody's entertainment I think it is time to write the entry on those strange dating moments where a certain ambiguity arises. That ambiguity being:

Is this guy a fantastic whimsical whirl of romance - or is he just a serial killer?

It's an easy trap to fall into I think. There's something charming about someone who has an extremely neat apartment and an affinity for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that extends to their sketchbook. And actually gives you the sketchbook to look at.

Yes, there's something strangely attractive about people who have chalkboards in their kitchen labelled "Things to Acquire" with pieces of furniture, various produce items, and good books on it. And a complete drum set with Book 5 of the "Teach Yourself to Drum" series open on the music stand. And about six guitars.

Yeah, I need to get over this nonsense, and consider myself rescued from a narrow tango with potential homicide. And stop trying to come up with witty retorts to his texts. I need my wit for real things, after all.

On another note, I finally bucked it up and tried to get what is so great about Gray's Anatomy - unsuccessfully. I think a really great episode is where they all get into a mass accident, have to operate on each other and make very bad mistakes resulting in long, slow and miserable deaths. Oh yeah, and they're mute - so instead of all the angst we can just enjoy the soundtrack.

Back to pretentious foreign cinema.