Well, it happened. I survived a 3-year gestational period during which that incubator (aka UW Law School) created what it could out of an ex-politico-union-rep.
I graduated in June, burried myself in a hole of hell until the Bar exam late July, and then I did the deed. After 3 days of mechanical rule spouting, I emerged a changed person. I had officially done all I could do.
And, miraculously, it paid off.
So, here I am, just 1 week out from taking an oath to uphold the standards of the legal profession, blah blah blah. It's mind blowing, actually. It's like you spend your whole life working to get somewhere and suddenly, BAM. You're there.
It's a little disorienting - like waking up from a dream that dragged on for so long, you forgot there was an ending. And suddenly you wake and you realize that it's not the ending at all - it's actually the beginning of a brand new day.
So, that's where I am. At the beginning of my brand new day as a lawyer. Today, I'll be specializing in civil litigation. Tomorrow, who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
The Awakening....
Well, it happened. I survived a 3-year gestational period during which that incubator (aka UW Law School) created what it could out of an ex-politico-union-rep.
I graduated in June, burried myself in a hole of hell until the Bar exam late July, and then I did the deed. After 3 days of mechanical rule spouting, I emerged a changed person. I had officially done all I could do.
And, miraculously, it paid off.
So, here I am, just 1 week out from taking an oath to uphold the standards of the legal profession, blah blah blah. It's mind blowing, actually. It's like you spend your whole life working to get somewhere and suddenly, BAM. You're there.
It's a little disorienting - like waking up from a dream that dragged on for so long, you forgot there was an ending. And suddenly you wake and you realize that it's not the ending at all - it's actually the beginning of a brand new day.
So, that's where I am. At the beginning of my brand new day as a lawyer. Today, I'll be specializing in civil litigation. Tomorrow, who knows what tomorrow will bring.
I graduated in June, burried myself in a hole of hell until the Bar exam late July, and then I did the deed. After 3 days of mechanical rule spouting, I emerged a changed person. I had officially done all I could do.
And, miraculously, it paid off.
So, here I am, just 1 week out from taking an oath to uphold the standards of the legal profession, blah blah blah. It's mind blowing, actually. It's like you spend your whole life working to get somewhere and suddenly, BAM. You're there.
It's a little disorienting - like waking up from a dream that dragged on for so long, you forgot there was an ending. And suddenly you wake and you realize that it's not the ending at all - it's actually the beginning of a brand new day.
So, that's where I am. At the beginning of my brand new day as a lawyer. Today, I'll be specializing in civil litigation. Tomorrow, who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Hot Girls
This past weekend, my friends Emily and Pam joined Sarah and me for our first American Univeristy (AU) West Coast Reunion!
After very long freshman year of short, ugly men, soggy tissue sob sessions, and a strict diet of salads and soft serve, we all went our separate ways.
Pam stay at AU while Emily left for Georgetown, right across the river. Sarah took off for Northwestern University in Chicago. And I came home to the University of Washington.
We were only together for a brief time, but it was an important year for all of us. And although some friends tend to float in and out of our lives, I truly hope that I can hang onto these girls forever:
Sarah, Emily, Nicole & Pam at the Market!
Our night starts off right...
3 Drinks in...
4...
5...
Well, you get the picture...
SMILE!
(Now, I just need to keep my balance...)
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Ben & Jerry's in a Pint
The New York Times recently ran a fantastic article on women and relationships a few weeks ago. In her article, Veronica Chambers offers some reassuring words for those of us who qualify as Extreme Daters:
"It's O.K. to fall deeply for one loser after another. It's O.K. to show up at a guy's house with a dozen roses and declare your undying affection. It's O.K. to have too much to drink and call your ex 20 times and then to be mortally embarrassed when you realize your number must have shown up on his caller ID. It's O.K. to stand at a phone booth in Times Square on New Year's Eve, drenched like a sewer cat in the pouring rain, crying your eyes out because the man you are infatuated with has decided that he needs some space. "
Ms. Chambers' article makes an example of her personal experience with dating disaster, starting with her first boyfriend as a girl:
One day, when my mother could not reach me after school for three hours straight, she came home early with the intention of beating some sense into me. When she found me sprawled underneath the dining table, the phone cord wrapped like a bracelet (or a handcuff) around my arm, she took pity. She led me into her bedroom and asked me how often I called Chuck.
"All the time."
"And how often does he call you?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"You can't chase boys," she said. "They don't like it."
This article hits close to home for anyone who made the tragic mistake of being straight up with a suitor (gasp!). Luckily, by the time we hit our early to mid-twenties, most of us have figured out that an unreturned phone call can only mean one thing:
He's just not that into you.
But the rest of the rules aren't so clear.
If we're all destined to kiss a dozen frogs before finding our prince, shouldn't our chances be just as good that any number of these placeholders could transform before our very eyes?
It's that lingering possibility that always seems to get in the way of "casual dating". Breakup without heartbreak is near impossible if you're one of those people who would really rather be planning weekend vacations with a soulmate than picking out an alluring yet mysterious and sophisticated outfit for that marginally awkward second date.
I'm one of those people. I absolutely hate dating.
Or maybe I just don't like The Rules.
Veronica Chambers doesn't like them either:
"In my 20's I had two long-term relationships that nevertheless ended, and I found myself back out in the wilds of the dating world. At this time the hot self-help dating book was ''The Rules.'' There were many rules that were supposed to help you lasso a man, but the one I remember said that you should never accept a date for Saturday after Thursday.
'
'The Rules'' reminded me of that conversation I had with my mother about the swoon-worthy Chuck Douglas. I understood that the rules were good for me, but so is tofu, and I just can't stand the stuff."
I don't have a particular problem with tofu. But it's hard to argue with the facts: tofu itself is pretty bland.
Life just seems too short to waste it with watered down relationships. But The Rules of successful courtship require a moderation on all fronts.
There is a prerequisite waiting period before calling back. There is a word and content limit on emails. How much time is too much time? Do I get to call him when I actually want to talk to him or do I have to wait the preapproved number of hours or days...
The Rules seem to work to our advantage in the early stages of a relationship, but what about six months in? Nine months? A year?
At what point do we get to stop being polite and simply ask for what we really what? Is it ever ok to break The Rules, or is that just asking for the dreaded, "Its's not you, it's me" conversation...
Because if love is about finally finding what we want, wouldn't it make sense to just ask for it?
Sometimes.
My best friend gave me some sobering but practical advice once:
If you want flowers, you need to ask for them.
Turns out, this is true most of the time. If you ask for flowers, you will probably get them.
If you have to ask for love, you probably will not get it.
The difference between flowers and love is: Men can buy flowers. Men can't manufacture love.
I had the awkward experience of having to give dating advice to my mother recently. Being new to the dating game again, she expressed an extreme reluctance to let go of a relationship that had really been over long before it had even started.
I told her: "Mom, that's why they make Ben & Jerry's in pints."
For some of us, myself included, The Rules remain confusing.
But ice cream makes all the sense in the world.
"It's O.K. to fall deeply for one loser after another. It's O.K. to show up at a guy's house with a dozen roses and declare your undying affection. It's O.K. to have too much to drink and call your ex 20 times and then to be mortally embarrassed when you realize your number must have shown up on his caller ID. It's O.K. to stand at a phone booth in Times Square on New Year's Eve, drenched like a sewer cat in the pouring rain, crying your eyes out because the man you are infatuated with has decided that he needs some space. "
Ms. Chambers' article makes an example of her personal experience with dating disaster, starting with her first boyfriend as a girl:
One day, when my mother could not reach me after school for three hours straight, she came home early with the intention of beating some sense into me. When she found me sprawled underneath the dining table, the phone cord wrapped like a bracelet (or a handcuff) around my arm, she took pity. She led me into her bedroom and asked me how often I called Chuck.
"All the time."
"And how often does he call you?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"You can't chase boys," she said. "They don't like it."
This article hits close to home for anyone who made the tragic mistake of being straight up with a suitor (gasp!). Luckily, by the time we hit our early to mid-twenties, most of us have figured out that an unreturned phone call can only mean one thing:
He's just not that into you.
But the rest of the rules aren't so clear.
If we're all destined to kiss a dozen frogs before finding our prince, shouldn't our chances be just as good that any number of these placeholders could transform before our very eyes?
It's that lingering possibility that always seems to get in the way of "casual dating". Breakup without heartbreak is near impossible if you're one of those people who would really rather be planning weekend vacations with a soulmate than picking out an alluring yet mysterious and sophisticated outfit for that marginally awkward second date.
I'm one of those people. I absolutely hate dating.
Or maybe I just don't like The Rules.
Veronica Chambers doesn't like them either:
"In my 20's I had two long-term relationships that nevertheless ended, and I found myself back out in the wilds of the dating world. At this time the hot self-help dating book was ''The Rules.'' There were many rules that were supposed to help you lasso a man, but the one I remember said that you should never accept a date for Saturday after Thursday.
'
'The Rules'' reminded me of that conversation I had with my mother about the swoon-worthy Chuck Douglas. I understood that the rules were good for me, but so is tofu, and I just can't stand the stuff."
I don't have a particular problem with tofu. But it's hard to argue with the facts: tofu itself is pretty bland.
Life just seems too short to waste it with watered down relationships. But The Rules of successful courtship require a moderation on all fronts.
There is a prerequisite waiting period before calling back. There is a word and content limit on emails. How much time is too much time? Do I get to call him when I actually want to talk to him or do I have to wait the preapproved number of hours or days...
The Rules seem to work to our advantage in the early stages of a relationship, but what about six months in? Nine months? A year?
At what point do we get to stop being polite and simply ask for what we really what? Is it ever ok to break The Rules, or is that just asking for the dreaded, "Its's not you, it's me" conversation...
Because if love is about finally finding what we want, wouldn't it make sense to just ask for it?
Sometimes.
My best friend gave me some sobering but practical advice once:
If you want flowers, you need to ask for them.
Turns out, this is true most of the time. If you ask for flowers, you will probably get them.
If you have to ask for love, you probably will not get it.
The difference between flowers and love is: Men can buy flowers. Men can't manufacture love.
I had the awkward experience of having to give dating advice to my mother recently. Being new to the dating game again, she expressed an extreme reluctance to let go of a relationship that had really been over long before it had even started.
I told her: "Mom, that's why they make Ben & Jerry's in pints."
For some of us, myself included, The Rules remain confusing.
But ice cream makes all the sense in the world.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Tribute To The Soul Mate Myth:
The Washington Post recently ran an interesting article on The Rules Of Engagement. The author of this article is Robert Scuka, Ph.D., executive director of National Institute of Relationship Enhancement in Bethesda, Md.
(...National Institute of Relationship Enhancement? Probably the most desparately need yet under utilized organization ever...)
The article discussed the utility of premarital counseling. What was once a predominantly religious pre-nuptial tradition is apparently now breaking into the mainstream. As a wave of baby-boomlets are entering the marriage phase of our lives, we're treating the decision to take those vows with the utmost caution.
According to Dr. Scuka, premarital counseling provides a reality check:
"One of the first things many premarital therapists do is to explode persistent myths that help sabotage marriages: that love is the most important predictor of marital happiness; that shared interests are a bulwark against divorce; and that true soul mates don't fight."
Oh, Great.
So, do any of us really have any hope at all of knowing when we've stumbled upon "The One"? Because if sparks and fireworks aren't an indication, how do we know? And then, once we know, what the hell do we do about it...
Dr. Scuka suggests that there are some things even the best of couples need to iron out before tying the knot:
"Linda Peterson Rogers, a marital therapist who practices in Falls Church, said one of her goals in premarital counseling is to teach couples acceptance and a recognition that personality characteristics -- such as a tendency to be disorganized or late -- probably won't change after marriage. Scuka said he tells couples that if they can't come to a satisfactory resolution, each partner has to decide how important the issue is. Chronic lateness may not be something worth breaking up over; chronic debt might be."
What he's really referencing is a truism any late-twenty-something woman of a million exes knows:
People. Don't. Change.
(Especially when you want them to.)
Ever find yourself repeating the phrase: "Oh, if he would just __ he would be perfect!"
Even more dangerous is:
"Once we get married he will/won't ____"
Yeah, NO. It doesn't happen that way. That thing that Mr. Mostly Wonderful does that just irritates the shit out of you now will be the ink on the divorce papers in 20 years.
And if you've never thought about these things but continuously find yourself tearfully wondering "what happened???" after a "surprise" break up, you should read the book.
This is why seasoned dumpers/dumpees act with caution when it comes to commitment.
As well we should.
According to the Center For Disease Control Study, Vital Statistics of the United States, 1960, Volume III, Marriage and Divorce.
In 1960, the CDC reported that the median age at marriage for the divorcees was 24.2 years for husbands and 20.9 years for wives (see Table 3-D in study). During this year, most marriages ending in divorce were of relatively short duration ( Study at 71). Over one third of divorces were granted after a duration of less than 5 years, and close to two thirds at less than 10 years. There is no data on adult children of divorce in 1960, as chilren over the age of 18 were not recorded in divorce records.
As recently as 1992, the U.S. Bureau of Census completed a sophisticated analysis and concluded:
". . . if one assumes a continuation of recent divorce trends, about 4 out of 10 first marriages to the youngest cohort may eventually end in divorce. Alternatively, if one assumes a return to the pattern of divorce during the 1975 to 1980 period, 5 out of 10 first marriages may eventually end in divorce (Current Population Reports, P23-180, 1992, p.5)."
Now, if those stats don't scare you into near relationship paralysis...
So, the question becomes: Is it better to play it safe, or play your hand and risk disaster?
Unfortunately, those of us who have caught a glimps of the fireworks - if only from a distance - realize the potential for happiness if you win the pot.
I vote for risking disaster. But then, I always do.
I talked with my favorite hair dresser today about a recent and particularly devastating heartbreak, and he told me something that really stuck:
The human heart is a muscle. When you use it, sometimes it hurts. But if you give it time to rest, it will become bigger and stronger.
Thanks, Ken. I needed that.
(...National Institute of Relationship Enhancement? Probably the most desparately need yet under utilized organization ever...)
The article discussed the utility of premarital counseling. What was once a predominantly religious pre-nuptial tradition is apparently now breaking into the mainstream. As a wave of baby-boomlets are entering the marriage phase of our lives, we're treating the decision to take those vows with the utmost caution.
According to Dr. Scuka, premarital counseling provides a reality check:
"One of the first things many premarital therapists do is to explode persistent myths that help sabotage marriages: that love is the most important predictor of marital happiness; that shared interests are a bulwark against divorce; and that true soul mates don't fight."
Oh, Great.
So, do any of us really have any hope at all of knowing when we've stumbled upon "The One"? Because if sparks and fireworks aren't an indication, how do we know? And then, once we know, what the hell do we do about it...
Dr. Scuka suggests that there are some things even the best of couples need to iron out before tying the knot:
"Linda Peterson Rogers, a marital therapist who practices in Falls Church, said one of her goals in premarital counseling is to teach couples acceptance and a recognition that personality characteristics -- such as a tendency to be disorganized or late -- probably won't change after marriage. Scuka said he tells couples that if they can't come to a satisfactory resolution, each partner has to decide how important the issue is. Chronic lateness may not be something worth breaking up over; chronic debt might be."
What he's really referencing is a truism any late-twenty-something woman of a million exes knows:
People. Don't. Change.
(Especially when you want them to.)
Ever find yourself repeating the phrase: "Oh, if he would just __ he would be perfect!"
Even more dangerous is:
"Once we get married he will/won't ____"
Yeah, NO. It doesn't happen that way. That thing that Mr. Mostly Wonderful does that just irritates the shit out of you now will be the ink on the divorce papers in 20 years.
And if you've never thought about these things but continuously find yourself tearfully wondering "what happened???" after a "surprise" break up, you should read the book.
This is why seasoned dumpers/dumpees act with caution when it comes to commitment.
As well we should.
According to the Center For Disease Control Study, Vital Statistics of the United States, 1960, Volume III, Marriage and Divorce.
In 1960, the CDC reported that the median age at marriage for the divorcees was 24.2 years for husbands and 20.9 years for wives (see Table 3-D in study). During this year, most marriages ending in divorce were of relatively short duration ( Study at 71). Over one third of divorces were granted after a duration of less than 5 years, and close to two thirds at less than 10 years. There is no data on adult children of divorce in 1960, as chilren over the age of 18 were not recorded in divorce records.
As recently as 1992, the U.S. Bureau of Census completed a sophisticated analysis and concluded:
". . . if one assumes a continuation of recent divorce trends, about 4 out of 10 first marriages to the youngest cohort may eventually end in divorce. Alternatively, if one assumes a return to the pattern of divorce during the 1975 to 1980 period, 5 out of 10 first marriages may eventually end in divorce (Current Population Reports, P23-180, 1992, p.5)."
Now, if those stats don't scare you into near relationship paralysis...
So, the question becomes: Is it better to play it safe, or play your hand and risk disaster?
Unfortunately, those of us who have caught a glimps of the fireworks - if only from a distance - realize the potential for happiness if you win the pot.
I vote for risking disaster. But then, I always do.
I talked with my favorite hair dresser today about a recent and particularly devastating heartbreak, and he told me something that really stuck:
The human heart is a muscle. When you use it, sometimes it hurts. But if you give it time to rest, it will become bigger and stronger.
Thanks, Ken. I needed that.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Organizational Divas:
Cassie, Megan and I organizational divas. If Cassie and I don't get jobs, we're going to create a PR/Wedding Planning/Evening Planning business. We are going to totally clean up. Since the experts have already declared Cassie the #1 most competitive person in law school, our work will be top notch.And I will just take out our opponents at the knees.
What Started Out As a Completely Professional Operation...
Brandon, Erik, and Cassie.
The Boys: Pre-Intoxication.
Hysterically Happy that the competition is OVER.
Orrin & Dustin. Lovers 'till Death.
The Lame Duck and her Bitch.
I try to sit close to Brandon at all times because he smells good.
So, it's no doubt he thinks he's the shi*....
The Juice Goes WILD
Let's cram in as much bitch slapping as we can while we still have time...
When did THIS happen....
Isn't it great when your dreams become reality...
Name that Ass!
Here are the pictures of our kick ass competition. As you can see, it all went downhill quite fast...We start out with a lovely picture of Chair Cassie, Smackdown Megan, and Logistics Goddess Nicole...
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Welcome to the E-World...
Well, I've finally done it. I broke down and entered the world of blogging.
In general, I'm at least one to ten steps behind when it comes to the latest technological fads, etc. For example, I'm one of the last people I know who still listens to the radio (I have no pod, etc.) I know, I know, arcane....
But, blogging has been mainstream long enough for me to jump on the bandwagon.
Besides. My favorite little brother moved clear across the globe to Cheongju, South Korea to read "See, See, Seashell" to a class full of seven year olds...
This is really my own method of communication. So, in the spirit of communicating, I'll tell my latest success story of replacing whatever ails me (emotionally or otherwise) with steady stream of To Do lists and double-booking...
This weekend, the University of Washington Moot Court Honor Board (MCHB) hosted the Western Regional Competition of the 2006 Jessup International Moot Court Competition.
Since our own UW team kicked some Southwestern Regional Ass in this competition last weekend, our Western Regional round had to go smoothly...
And oh, did it go smoothly. Smooth as a Vaselined baby's butt.
Team Jessup (Princess Cassie Cordell Little, Orrin Vagrant-Patrol Johnson, Dustin Hales Ales Rep Buehler, Aaron Playa Hater Thomson, Megan Dirty Vagina Crowhurst, Brandon Sweet Smelling Leblanc, and Yours Truly) performed some pretty amazing feats on very little sleep and a steady flow of alcohol and panty jokes.
Our judges' managers delivered a full panel of quality, top notch intl. law judges for each and every round in record time. Megan and Brandon showed up early and stayed late, fulfilling the cardinal rule of effective leadership (Don't ask anyone to do something you would not do yourself...). And Cassie and I worked so hard, we nearly tripped over each other walking to the champagne after it was all over.
So, if Cassie and I don't get jobs on our respective sides of the courtroom, we'll make a *killing* being event planners!
Pictures to Follow...
- nck
In general, I'm at least one to ten steps behind when it comes to the latest technological fads, etc. For example, I'm one of the last people I know who still listens to the radio (I have no pod, etc.) I know, I know, arcane....
But, blogging has been mainstream long enough for me to jump on the bandwagon.
Besides. My favorite little brother moved clear across the globe to Cheongju, South Korea to read "See, See, Seashell" to a class full of seven year olds...
This is really my own method of communication. So, in the spirit of communicating, I'll tell my latest success story of replacing whatever ails me (emotionally or otherwise) with steady stream of To Do lists and double-booking...
This weekend, the University of Washington Moot Court Honor Board (MCHB) hosted the Western Regional Competition of the 2006 Jessup International Moot Court Competition.
Since our own UW team kicked some Southwestern Regional Ass in this competition last weekend, our Western Regional round had to go smoothly...
And oh, did it go smoothly. Smooth as a Vaselined baby's butt.
Team Jessup (Princess Cassie Cordell Little, Orrin Vagrant-Patrol Johnson, Dustin Hales Ales Rep Buehler, Aaron Playa Hater Thomson, Megan Dirty Vagina Crowhurst, Brandon Sweet Smelling Leblanc, and Yours Truly) performed some pretty amazing feats on very little sleep and a steady flow of alcohol and panty jokes.
Our judges' managers delivered a full panel of quality, top notch intl. law judges for each and every round in record time. Megan and Brandon showed up early and stayed late, fulfilling the cardinal rule of effective leadership (Don't ask anyone to do something you would not do yourself...). And Cassie and I worked so hard, we nearly tripped over each other walking to the champagne after it was all over.
So, if Cassie and I don't get jobs on our respective sides of the courtroom, we'll make a *killing* being event planners!
Pictures to Follow...
- nck
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