Woohoo!
Lindsay Lohan is no longer a blonde!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Nightmares as Video Games
I took a nap today after going to cheer on my friend JB at the Chicago Marathon. I had a scary-exciting dream. It made me wonder why nightmares aren't more welcome. Granted, you need to be aware that they are only dreams in order to enjoy them. However, once you do, they really can be like video games in your participation in the chase and fight with the baddies.
My scary-exciting dream:
Three of us are sitting, being held captive after hours at a Marshall Field's-like department store. We are sitting in a circular clearing area with office furniture all around us. By the wall, in a high backed leather executive chair, sits the captor, a tall guy in a navy blue pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt, red power tie...with a goat's head. For some reason, we are all armed and unbound, despite our captivity. (Don't ask me -- it was a dream!) I'm sitting with my back facing the wall, looking out into the open floorplan with the stairs-where-there-would-be-escalators about twenty feet ahead.
I look to my right and make eye contact with one of the others who is being held captive. Somehow he and I communicate that I will distract The Goat so that the guy can attack The Goat. I start (playfully?) shooting at the third captive's feet with my machine gun. As The Goat yells at me, the other guy leaps to his feet and starts shooting at The Goat with his machine gun.
We all leap to our feet in order to scatter to make it more difficult to recapture us. As I run towards the stairs, The Goat's henchmen arrive from the left, one of them pushing the other in a carpet-lined shopping cart and both of them shooting at the three of us. (Seriously -- it was a dream.) As I run with the henchmen chasing me, I turn around and let off spurts of shots in The Goat's and their directions. I get this sense of accomplishment whenever my aim hits them.
As I scramble down the stairs (Seventh floor was heavy appliances (dishwashers, etc.), sixth floor was furniture (sofas, chaises, etc.), and fifth floor was model rooms (in the IKEA style).), I start leaping the last 7 steps...then the last 10 steps...then the whole staircase in a stomach-dropping feat of only-in-dreamdomness. Upon reaching the fifth floor, I hunt for a hiding place to watch for the bad guys. I consider and reject hiding behind country vine-covered curtains in a little IKEA-like sitting room. Running again, I pass by my uncle and parents, who tell me my brother left (and would be returning). I get scared for him, and tell them to warn him and hide themselves. I hadn't found a hiding place by the time I woke up.
My scary-exciting dream:
Three of us are sitting, being held captive after hours at a Marshall Field's-like department store. We are sitting in a circular clearing area with office furniture all around us. By the wall, in a high backed leather executive chair, sits the captor, a tall guy in a navy blue pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt, red power tie...with a goat's head. For some reason, we are all armed and unbound, despite our captivity. (Don't ask me -- it was a dream!) I'm sitting with my back facing the wall, looking out into the open floorplan with the stairs-where-there-would-be-escalators about twenty feet ahead.
I look to my right and make eye contact with one of the others who is being held captive. Somehow he and I communicate that I will distract The Goat so that the guy can attack The Goat. I start (playfully?) shooting at the third captive's feet with my machine gun. As The Goat yells at me, the other guy leaps to his feet and starts shooting at The Goat with his machine gun.
We all leap to our feet in order to scatter to make it more difficult to recapture us. As I run towards the stairs, The Goat's henchmen arrive from the left, one of them pushing the other in a carpet-lined shopping cart and both of them shooting at the three of us. (Seriously -- it was a dream.) As I run with the henchmen chasing me, I turn around and let off spurts of shots in The Goat's and their directions. I get this sense of accomplishment whenever my aim hits them.
As I scramble down the stairs (Seventh floor was heavy appliances (dishwashers, etc.), sixth floor was furniture (sofas, chaises, etc.), and fifth floor was model rooms (in the IKEA style).), I start leaping the last 7 steps...then the last 10 steps...then the whole staircase in a stomach-dropping feat of only-in-dreamdomness. Upon reaching the fifth floor, I hunt for a hiding place to watch for the bad guys. I consider and reject hiding behind country vine-covered curtains in a little IKEA-like sitting room. Running again, I pass by my uncle and parents, who tell me my brother left (and would be returning). I get scared for him, and tell them to warn him and hide themselves. I hadn't found a hiding place by the time I woke up.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Take Heart
For those having difficulties reconciling their chosen profession with their personal morals, please review the following article: "On Being A Happy, Healthy, and Ethical Member of an Unhappy, Unhealthy, Unethical Profession." (If you're having difficulties with the link, this is the cite: 52 Vand. L. Rev. 871.)
Mmm...French Fries
While surfing today, I came across this fun, fascinating article. Having always had the negative stigma of being an untenable pollutant and thus bad for the environment, diesel fuel really never struck me as ever possibly being able to emerge as a good thing. If, however, this article is correct, and the only pollution coming out of biodiesel is of the French-Fry-smelling, non-harmful variety, then consider me favorably impressed. The idea of being able to cook up my car's gas in a deep fryer may even merit my own Craigs List, diesel-engined car experiment one day. And, yes, I realize that the fact that I consider this a really cool thing, let alone that I'm considering doing it in the future, reveals me for the born-and-raised San Franciscan that I am. Go ahead and say it. Fine. I'll say it for you. Hippie.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
OCI Update
Alas, plenty of time has passed, and I have yet to update everyone on the happenings (or, more accurately, the non-happenings) of my second foray into OCI land. Needless to say, no news has become, for the most part, bad news, and I am goddamn sick of it. Out of the 19 interviews I did at OCI, 16 have been converted into dings. Yes, dings. Dammit. Three I have yet to hear from. It's very discouraging, and it makes you wonder for whom these firms were really looking. Actually, it doesn't. Eliminating median grades-holding students, I've come up with the conclusion that they are looking for the bright, shining superstars of the 3L class (um, isn't it likely these superstars went to superstar firms their 2L summers already?), and these firms have to resign themselves to sifting through the median graded students to get to these (unlikely) superstars. I'm still holding out hope for my firm (please please please call soon and say you have room for me in SF!), but this lack of welcoming responses from firms at OCI has been quite an experience.
As a 2L interviewing with 30 or 40+ firms, you feel like the cream of the crop, the top of the list, the ace of spades. As a 3L interviewing with fewer than 20 firms, most of whom aren't even looking for 3Ls in earnest, you feel unwanted, alone, and frustrated. It's a different ballgame altogether. Even coming from a top school does not really help your chances. Receiving ding after ding (did someone say donuts? maybe not...) has really humbled me. On retrospect, I realize I entered this experience with the sense of entitlement that I had developed over the years that I deserved a good job "because, dammit, I go to a goddamn top law school and they should be falling all over themselves to employ me." That really is not the case. For those 2Ls out there who are considering their 2L summer firm choices, I would highly recommend you pick your firms wisely as 3L interviewing is not the cakewalk that your past couple months have been.
As a 2L interviewing with 30 or 40+ firms, you feel like the cream of the crop, the top of the list, the ace of spades. As a 3L interviewing with fewer than 20 firms, most of whom aren't even looking for 3Ls in earnest, you feel unwanted, alone, and frustrated. It's a different ballgame altogether. Even coming from a top school does not really help your chances. Receiving ding after ding (did someone say donuts? maybe not...) has really humbled me. On retrospect, I realize I entered this experience with the sense of entitlement that I had developed over the years that I deserved a good job "because, dammit, I go to a goddamn top law school and they should be falling all over themselves to employ me." That really is not the case. For those 2Ls out there who are considering their 2L summer firm choices, I would highly recommend you pick your firms wisely as 3L interviewing is not the cakewalk that your past couple months have been.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
World Chocolate Day
To my dismay, I missed celebrating World Chocolate Day on September 23. Let's just say that I've been making up for it ever since.
To all, a happy belated Chocolate Day!
To all, a happy belated Chocolate Day!
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Yes, yes, I should be studying.
Y'all better watch out for this llama-riding chick toting a vibro sling*. *rowr*
| Your Superhero Profile |
 Your Superhero Name is The Admiral Nova Your Superpower is Divine intervention Your Weakness is Confined spaces Your Weapon is Your Vibro Sling Your Mode of Transportation is Llama |
What's your Superhero Name?
* What's a vibro sling? That's for me to know, and for you to find out...
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