Friday, glorious Friday!
You know, it's funny how much the weather can affect your motivation. Bright, sunny summer days are amazing medicine for your soul, but they also hide treacherous traps behind those fluffy white clouds. As beautiful as summer is, it's a total suck for productivity. Add in a brilliant Friday and you've got the recipe for a grinding halt to any chance at getting work done.
Honestly, if it were raining today, I'd probably be plugging away at my files, figuring out the settlement figures I need to present to my client, and chatting away on the phone with opposing counsel, trying to nail down exactly why she thinks her client is entitled to over four times his actual lost wages in another matter. Instead, I'm listening to music, checking email, tidying up my desk and generally staring out the window to the rooftop pool below and wishing I was sitting in one of the pool chaises, reading my book.
At this time seven months ago, I was furiously billing every spare second I could find. I was still aiming high and hoping to bill one hundred hours above my billable target so that I could cash in on a nice objective bonus. Now I'm just hoping I can manage to bill enough hours this month to actually hit my target. At least I'm not behind in hours right now, resulting in my being forced into the dreary corner of billing furiously just to save face. Been there, done that, don't plan on returning.
In exactly forty minutes, I'll make my way to the boardroom for a thrilling ethics CLE and free lunch from Panera. That will probably be the most productive thing I actually accomplish today. And I can pretty much guarantee I'll be slipping out of here early so that I can either go to the pool or hit the golf course for a quick nine holes.
What? Don't act like you're actually getting something done today.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
this should be illegal
I'd really love to know exactly who it was who decided that firm golf outings should always take place on a Thursday. I mean, honestly! How can I be expected to golf all day, drink all night, and then show up to work and be productive the next day?
I'll tell you right now that I'm failing miserably at that last part. I made it to work (an hour late), but I have yet to do anything other than stare blankly at my computer screen in a daze. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I'm still a little drunk.
I should really wear a sign that says "do not buy me drinks" when I go out. Because really, who can turn down free alcohol? Clearly not me. And apparently I have a little issue with pounding Jack & Cokes late in the night when I'm already well past the point of being ass wasted. Why? Why do I do that?
I can't tell whether the other associates are actually being productive today or are silently suffering in their offices like I am. I like to think they're doing serious work right now and I'm the only asshole who can't concentrate on anything, but I'm pretty sure there are a handful of us in the same boat right now.
And did someone turn up the heat in here? What the fuck?
I'll tell you right now that I'm failing miserably at that last part. I made it to work (an hour late), but I have yet to do anything other than stare blankly at my computer screen in a daze. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I'm still a little drunk.
I should really wear a sign that says "do not buy me drinks" when I go out. Because really, who can turn down free alcohol? Clearly not me. And apparently I have a little issue with pounding Jack & Cokes late in the night when I'm already well past the point of being ass wasted. Why? Why do I do that?
I can't tell whether the other associates are actually being productive today or are silently suffering in their offices like I am. I like to think they're doing serious work right now and I'm the only asshole who can't concentrate on anything, but I'm pretty sure there are a handful of us in the same boat right now.
And did someone turn up the heat in here? What the fuck?
Monday, June 09, 2008
familiarity breeds the funk
There was a time, not too many years ago, that I remember proudly proclaiming that I loved living by myself and couldn't imagine having a roommate again, and wouldn't have a roommate again until I was married.
Enter Boyfriend. Commence blissful cohabitation.
It's actually pretty fun most of the time. I mean, it turns out that Boyfriend really is my best friend in every sense of the word. Who else can you joke around with about butt cracks and semen? No, seriously. He told me earlier today that he would "fix" my crack by "filling it with sticky goo." And typically any slips of the tongue or inadvertantly harsh words are easily remedied with our standby apology of "but I love you." It's really like we have our own little language now. I guess over the past two years, we've accumulated enough inside jokes that nobody else could ever hope to understand half of what's going on between us on any given night. And I love that.
But today I discovered a rather disgusting side effect of this uber familiarity. Rankness. Yes, I'm talking about the funk. We're so pleasantly content with each other that neither of us really sees any problem going days without showering. I remember back when we first started dating that sometimes I'd even shower more than once a day if I was going to see him. Now...not so much. So today we got into an insult match about each other's funk. Clearly his is worse. He is a man, after all. But he pointed out that I don't always smell like rose petals either. I think his insults were motivated mostly by a childish need to get me back for telling him that his b.o. was at the level of physically hurting me.
He told me with a pout that he's going to call me Stinky from now on. And being ever so clever, I informed him that if I'm Stinky, then his new petname should be Noxious Poison.
But I love you?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Smart E. Pants
I feel the need to blog again today to tell you all that if you ever purchase a Smart Car and get a personalized license plate that reads "E. Pants" I will personally hunt you down and slap you silly. I can't do that to the associate in my firm who has already perpetrated the above offenses, so understand that I will be forced to take out my frustrations solely on you should the opportunity present itself.
Don't be a douchebag.
Don't be a douchebag.
tell them yourself
I have found myself to be my own worst critic.
It's true. I would venture to say that from pre-puberty onwards, I have always viewed myself under a microscope strong enough to be employed in a genetics lab. I think many people, women in particular, suffer from the same affliction. It starts with physical appearance, comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines, on tv shows, in the movies, but as you age, it develops into a secret scrutiny of all aspects of your life. How do I measure up? Did I get enough education? Did I go to the right schools? Choose the right degrees? Was I in the top ten percent of my class? Did I graduate with honors? How are my friends doing? Have I achieved more? Did I choose the right career path? Am I advancing my way up the corporate ladder at the appropriate speed?
The internal voices can be deafening.
And at times like I find myself this week, the roar can be almost too much to take. However, I would say that right now it's less about the voices scrutinizing myself and more about an internal battle between the woman in me, who was taught not to brag, to never overstate my capabilities, and to always realize that more can be done, and what has been done can be done better, and on the other end, the masculine part of my psyche that realizes the only way to get ahead in what can still arguably be called a man's world, is to bluff like a man.
Yes, it's that wonderful time of year again where all associates are asked to evaluate themselves. Why on earth are we put to this task? Simply put: the partners really don't have time to bother keeping track of our progress. Instead, we are asked to succinctly spell it out for them, so that they can review it and agree or disagree.
So the feminine side of my brain is telling me that I still barely know anything about what I'm doing. It's been almost four years now since I graduated lawschool and began practice as an attorney, and I still feel like I don't know jack. This thought doesn't really trouble me, as I'm accutely aware that even partners are in the same boat here. It's why everything is codified and judgments are drafted into lengthy, detailed opinions. We all have to look it up. The only time we're ever really asked to memorize is for the bar exam, and let's be honest, everything you knew when you sat for the bar instantly vacates your brain the moment it's over with.
So the feminine side of my brain is self-depreciating. It wants to say "I'm working hard to meet my billable hours model, but it's difficult. And while I don't really feel like I'm an expert at anything, I have handled a handful of matters in the following areas..."
The masculine side of me, however, is yelling "I deserve a raise, damnit! And a bonus!"
After attending a Women Lawyers Summit in Atlanta about a month ago, I'm able to actually separate the two sides of my brain and listen to both. What I learned, is that women take self-depreciation to a ridiculous level. When filling out self-evaluations, for example, we're likely to voice our own trepidations about our abilities, and hope that the partners will realize that we're actually better than we give ourselves credit for. Men, on the other hand, have no problem bluffing and filling in the blanks with hard work when they are called on it.
Simply put, you get what you ask for in this business, not necessarily what you deserve. Which means it takes careful calculation and steadfast determination to block out the tendencies you've learned as a woman, and write these Associate Self-Evaluations from the viewpoint of a man. Which is why I am asking for a significant raise and bonus this year. It can't hurt to point out to the partners that I have acquired three new specialties this year, sat for and passed yet another bar exam (that makes three states now, thank you very much!), and become increasingly involved in extra-firm and intra-firm women's groups as well as a handful of other organizations that increase my visibility in the community. What's the worse that can happen? They can decline my request for a raise and bonus and walk away with the knowledge that I'm a go-getter who isn't afraid to ask for what I want.
Though, I really hope they give me what I'm asking for.
It makes me sad when I think about how this learned trait of self-depreciation is holding us back. We as women make up 57% of bachelors degrees, 59% of masters degrees, 53% of PhDs, 49% of law degrees and 42% of MBAs (Source: University Admissions Offices), yet represent only 2.6% of Fortune 500 CEOs, 6.7% of Fortune 500 Top 5 Wage Earners, 14.7% of Fortune 500 Board Members, 15.6% of Fortune 500 Corporate Officers, 16% of U.S. Senators and U.S. Representatives, and 18% of Governors (Source: White House Project, DiversityInc., and Catalyst). And don't even get me started on the pay disparities between men and women. In law firms alone, the income differential works its way from approximately the same at the associate level up to $140,000 difference on average at the equity partner level (Source: NAWL Survey on Retention and Promotion of Women in Law Firms).
We need to stop this cycle by teaching our own daughters to puff out their chests and talk themselves up when necessary. By teaching our daughters not to criticize themselves. Not to obsessively inspect themselves with a microscope that nobody but they have access to.
And we impact all the women in our lives by starting with ourselves. Live boldly, succeed loudly, and don't give a damn whether the whole world knows that you think you're the bee's knees.
Better yet, tell them yourself!
It's true. I would venture to say that from pre-puberty onwards, I have always viewed myself under a microscope strong enough to be employed in a genetics lab. I think many people, women in particular, suffer from the same affliction. It starts with physical appearance, comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines, on tv shows, in the movies, but as you age, it develops into a secret scrutiny of all aspects of your life. How do I measure up? Did I get enough education? Did I go to the right schools? Choose the right degrees? Was I in the top ten percent of my class? Did I graduate with honors? How are my friends doing? Have I achieved more? Did I choose the right career path? Am I advancing my way up the corporate ladder at the appropriate speed?
The internal voices can be deafening.
And at times like I find myself this week, the roar can be almost too much to take. However, I would say that right now it's less about the voices scrutinizing myself and more about an internal battle between the woman in me, who was taught not to brag, to never overstate my capabilities, and to always realize that more can be done, and what has been done can be done better, and on the other end, the masculine part of my psyche that realizes the only way to get ahead in what can still arguably be called a man's world, is to bluff like a man.
Yes, it's that wonderful time of year again where all associates are asked to evaluate themselves. Why on earth are we put to this task? Simply put: the partners really don't have time to bother keeping track of our progress. Instead, we are asked to succinctly spell it out for them, so that they can review it and agree or disagree.
So the feminine side of my brain is telling me that I still barely know anything about what I'm doing. It's been almost four years now since I graduated lawschool and began practice as an attorney, and I still feel like I don't know jack. This thought doesn't really trouble me, as I'm accutely aware that even partners are in the same boat here. It's why everything is codified and judgments are drafted into lengthy, detailed opinions. We all have to look it up. The only time we're ever really asked to memorize is for the bar exam, and let's be honest, everything you knew when you sat for the bar instantly vacates your brain the moment it's over with.
So the feminine side of my brain is self-depreciating. It wants to say "I'm working hard to meet my billable hours model, but it's difficult. And while I don't really feel like I'm an expert at anything, I have handled a handful of matters in the following areas..."
The masculine side of me, however, is yelling "I deserve a raise, damnit! And a bonus!"
After attending a Women Lawyers Summit in Atlanta about a month ago, I'm able to actually separate the two sides of my brain and listen to both. What I learned, is that women take self-depreciation to a ridiculous level. When filling out self-evaluations, for example, we're likely to voice our own trepidations about our abilities, and hope that the partners will realize that we're actually better than we give ourselves credit for. Men, on the other hand, have no problem bluffing and filling in the blanks with hard work when they are called on it.
Simply put, you get what you ask for in this business, not necessarily what you deserve. Which means it takes careful calculation and steadfast determination to block out the tendencies you've learned as a woman, and write these Associate Self-Evaluations from the viewpoint of a man. Which is why I am asking for a significant raise and bonus this year. It can't hurt to point out to the partners that I have acquired three new specialties this year, sat for and passed yet another bar exam (that makes three states now, thank you very much!), and become increasingly involved in extra-firm and intra-firm women's groups as well as a handful of other organizations that increase my visibility in the community. What's the worse that can happen? They can decline my request for a raise and bonus and walk away with the knowledge that I'm a go-getter who isn't afraid to ask for what I want.
Though, I really hope they give me what I'm asking for.
It makes me sad when I think about how this learned trait of self-depreciation is holding us back. We as women make up 57% of bachelors degrees, 59% of masters degrees, 53% of PhDs, 49% of law degrees and 42% of MBAs (Source: University Admissions Offices), yet represent only 2.6% of Fortune 500 CEOs, 6.7% of Fortune 500 Top 5 Wage Earners, 14.7% of Fortune 500 Board Members, 15.6% of Fortune 500 Corporate Officers, 16% of U.S. Senators and U.S. Representatives, and 18% of Governors (Source: White House Project, DiversityInc., and Catalyst). And don't even get me started on the pay disparities between men and women. In law firms alone, the income differential works its way from approximately the same at the associate level up to $140,000 difference on average at the equity partner level (Source: NAWL Survey on Retention and Promotion of Women in Law Firms).
We need to stop this cycle by teaching our own daughters to puff out their chests and talk themselves up when necessary. By teaching our daughters not to criticize themselves. Not to obsessively inspect themselves with a microscope that nobody but they have access to.
And we impact all the women in our lives by starting with ourselves. Live boldly, succeed loudly, and don't give a damn whether the whole world knows that you think you're the bee's knees.
Better yet, tell them yourself!
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
She's such a tease!
I would just like to take a second to apologize to my good friend, Chicky-Babe. That last post of mine was...oh, almost five months ago, and I just now noticed her comment of excitement that I had returned to the world of blogging. I'm such a tease, eh?
I promise to try harder. I've been grossly neglecting this blog and that's just a shame. And with another good friend recently jumping on the blogger bandwagon, I was reminded that I really enjoyed blogging in a pseudo-anonymous capacity here. So I'm going to do my best to blog as regularly as possible now. After all, I no longer have that two hour daily commute for work anymore. Surely with those extra two hours I can find some time to set aside for writing.
Oh, that's right. We moved again. Boyfriend, Dog, Cat and I are now living comfortably in a house fifteen minutes from my office. Hard to comprehend for me, after seven long years of lengthy commutes for work and school. It's glorious.
So hello again, internetland! You know you've missed me!
I promise to try harder. I've been grossly neglecting this blog and that's just a shame. And with another good friend recently jumping on the blogger bandwagon, I was reminded that I really enjoyed blogging in a pseudo-anonymous capacity here. So I'm going to do my best to blog as regularly as possible now. After all, I no longer have that two hour daily commute for work anymore. Surely with those extra two hours I can find some time to set aside for writing.
Oh, that's right. We moved again. Boyfriend, Dog, Cat and I are now living comfortably in a house fifteen minutes from my office. Hard to comprehend for me, after seven long years of lengthy commutes for work and school. It's glorious.
So hello again, internetland! You know you've missed me!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
metamorphosis
met·a·mor·pho·sis
noun
A profound change in form from one stage to the next in the life history of an organism, as from the caterpillar to the pupa and from the pupa to the adult butterfly.
You know, it's been years since I last looked at this blog. I started it during a turbulent time in my life when writing seemed the only way to relieve the stress and anxiety I was experiencing. Reading back through it is like reliving some of those extreme emotions all over again. And it definitely emphasizes the changes that have occurred since then.
I blogged about wanting a change. I blogged about being uncertain of my future. About the possibility of moving out of Detroit to someplace new. And just generally about possibilities for what was to come.
These days it isn't just my future that's looking bright. It's me. It's my life. It's the here and now.
Seventeen months ago, I uprooted myself from the desparately slowing economy of Michigan and started a new life in Kansas City. To be sure, this was a rather quick and spontaneous decision that I made when I found out that my boyfriend was moving to Kansas to pursue his MBA degree.
Oh, did I not mention the boyfriend? Well, don't worry. While we had only been officially dating for two months before I moved my entire life across the country, we had been very close friends for a decade.
In any event, what seemed like a rash decision by some at the time has turned out to be the best move I ever made for myself. Period.
We spent last year crammed into a tiny one bedroom apartment that some might call cozy, but I prefer to refer to as a closet without closets. Yes, zero storage. I would have had difficulty there alone, but with the two of us...wow. I don't really know how to describe the cramped and enclosed sensation without physically showing you by closing myself into a small, cardboard moving box.
This year we upgraded into a three bedroom, two and a half bath townhome with an attached garage and two stories. Life has improved dramatically. Just ask our dog.
Oh, did I not mention the dog? Yes, Boyfriend and I got a dog together last summer. He's feisty, wild, completely loving, and has made me realize that there is something to the whole people get dogs that look like themselves notion. He is the living, breathing, canine embodiment of Boyfriend. It's quite adorable.
And yes, Cat took a while to adjust to Dog moving in, but they are now happily fighting like all good brothers should.
I joined a downtown Kansas City law firm a year ago and haven't looked back since. It's everything my old firm was not. It's huge (I'm only in a branch office which is roughly the size of my entire old firm), it's classy, it's professional, it's ethical, and the associates are treated as part of the team, working to better the firm and serve clients in the best way possible. I'm also doing drastically more interesting work. I won't elaborate in great deal, but suffice it to say that tort litigation beats boring general business litigation by a long shot.
So these days see me involved in massive trials, partying with new friends, and most of all enjoying my new life with Boyfriend, Cat and Dog in our own home. I've lost 35 lbs since leaving Michigan and I expect to lose another 30 or so to bring me back down to my law school weight.
But even without the weightloss, I don't think you have to look too hard to see the radiant glow that comes from within now.
Caterpillar to butterfly, indeed.
noun
A profound change in form from one stage to the next in the life history of an organism, as from the caterpillar to the pupa and from the pupa to the adult butterfly.
You know, it's been years since I last looked at this blog. I started it during a turbulent time in my life when writing seemed the only way to relieve the stress and anxiety I was experiencing. Reading back through it is like reliving some of those extreme emotions all over again. And it definitely emphasizes the changes that have occurred since then.
I blogged about wanting a change. I blogged about being uncertain of my future. About the possibility of moving out of Detroit to someplace new. And just generally about possibilities for what was to come.
These days it isn't just my future that's looking bright. It's me. It's my life. It's the here and now.
Seventeen months ago, I uprooted myself from the desparately slowing economy of Michigan and started a new life in Kansas City. To be sure, this was a rather quick and spontaneous decision that I made when I found out that my boyfriend was moving to Kansas to pursue his MBA degree.
Oh, did I not mention the boyfriend? Well, don't worry. While we had only been officially dating for two months before I moved my entire life across the country, we had been very close friends for a decade.
In any event, what seemed like a rash decision by some at the time has turned out to be the best move I ever made for myself. Period.
We spent last year crammed into a tiny one bedroom apartment that some might call cozy, but I prefer to refer to as a closet without closets. Yes, zero storage. I would have had difficulty there alone, but with the two of us...wow. I don't really know how to describe the cramped and enclosed sensation without physically showing you by closing myself into a small, cardboard moving box.
This year we upgraded into a three bedroom, two and a half bath townhome with an attached garage and two stories. Life has improved dramatically. Just ask our dog.
Oh, did I not mention the dog? Yes, Boyfriend and I got a dog together last summer. He's feisty, wild, completely loving, and has made me realize that there is something to the whole people get dogs that look like themselves notion. He is the living, breathing, canine embodiment of Boyfriend. It's quite adorable.
And yes, Cat took a while to adjust to Dog moving in, but they are now happily fighting like all good brothers should.
I joined a downtown Kansas City law firm a year ago and haven't looked back since. It's everything my old firm was not. It's huge (I'm only in a branch office which is roughly the size of my entire old firm), it's classy, it's professional, it's ethical, and the associates are treated as part of the team, working to better the firm and serve clients in the best way possible. I'm also doing drastically more interesting work. I won't elaborate in great deal, but suffice it to say that tort litigation beats boring general business litigation by a long shot.
So these days see me involved in massive trials, partying with new friends, and most of all enjoying my new life with Boyfriend, Cat and Dog in our own home. I've lost 35 lbs since leaving Michigan and I expect to lose another 30 or so to bring me back down to my law school weight.
But even without the weightloss, I don't think you have to look too hard to see the radiant glow that comes from within now.
Caterpillar to butterfly, indeed.
Monday, April 24, 2006
She's crafty
Oh yes I am!
Thanks to all this time on my hands, I've gotten really into watching home design shows. I especially love the ones where they go in and simply rearrange your rooms with the same furniture and other odds and ends from other rooms and make it look a hundred thousand times better.
So. The other day while I was working out on my elliptical, I eyed my living room. And the second my workout was done, I hopped off and started moving my furniture around. I took three big pieces of furniture out of the room and moved my couches around, etc. And let me tell you, it's like it's a different room. LOVES it.
One of the big pieces of furniture that I removed was this awesome chair that I totally love. Except that its giant cushions have been covered in orange burlap my entire life. No lie. Still love it, but not so attractive and definitely not working with any kind of color scheme in my house. So what to do with this big chair? Well, I moved my bed a little in my bedroom and created a seating area. I put the chair in the bedroom right next to the windows that let the sun absolutely flood the room in the afternoon. It's heaven. But it was still orange burlap.
So I drove to the fabric store and ran in during the middle of a thunderstorm to pick out fabric. I chose a lovely blue and white toille and guesstimated how much I would need. Did I measure the cushions? No, I didn't. But I'm badass and I still got the right amount of my fabric. How much do I rule? But I digress. I went home and recovered both giant cushions AND made a throw pillow for my bed to tie the fabric into the room. And I did it all BY HAND because I don't own (nor do I know how to use) a sewing machine. FYI, recovering cushions by hand is no small feat. It took me hours. But the end result is enough to make me shiver with delight every time I lay my eyes on my new bedroom chair.
And here it is...
Note the matching throw pillow on my bed:
And Samson is a big fan. (He's doing FANTASTIC now, by the way--totally back to his old healthy self.)
Thanks to all this time on my hands, I've gotten really into watching home design shows. I especially love the ones where they go in and simply rearrange your rooms with the same furniture and other odds and ends from other rooms and make it look a hundred thousand times better.
So. The other day while I was working out on my elliptical, I eyed my living room. And the second my workout was done, I hopped off and started moving my furniture around. I took three big pieces of furniture out of the room and moved my couches around, etc. And let me tell you, it's like it's a different room. LOVES it.
One of the big pieces of furniture that I removed was this awesome chair that I totally love. Except that its giant cushions have been covered in orange burlap my entire life. No lie. Still love it, but not so attractive and definitely not working with any kind of color scheme in my house. So what to do with this big chair? Well, I moved my bed a little in my bedroom and created a seating area. I put the chair in the bedroom right next to the windows that let the sun absolutely flood the room in the afternoon. It's heaven. But it was still orange burlap.
So I drove to the fabric store and ran in during the middle of a thunderstorm to pick out fabric. I chose a lovely blue and white toille and guesstimated how much I would need. Did I measure the cushions? No, I didn't. But I'm badass and I still got the right amount of my fabric. How much do I rule? But I digress. I went home and recovered both giant cushions AND made a throw pillow for my bed to tie the fabric into the room. And I did it all BY HAND because I don't own (nor do I know how to use) a sewing machine. FYI, recovering cushions by hand is no small feat. It took me hours. But the end result is enough to make me shiver with delight every time I lay my eyes on my new bedroom chair.
And here it is...
Note the matching throw pillow on my bed:
And Samson is a big fan. (He's doing FANTASTIC now, by the way--totally back to his old healthy self.)
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