file it under "inappropriate responses"

I have an odd habit of saying "thank you" to people who ask me for money on the street. I always say that I don't have any cash* and then I say "thank you." Which is odd. Thank you, street person, for asking me for money; unfortunately I don't have any. Today I corrected myself and said "sorry" right after thanking the guy. He was quite nice about it. Which is better than the guy who says "yeah right, bitch."**

Counting down the days until I get to see Mr. Raisins. We're going to his high school reunion in Houston. Which will either be really fun or really boring. I'm putting my money on boring since I don't know these people. But as long as I get to see my man, it's all good. And maybe some chick I've never met will compliment my highlights. Because getting compliments from people I don't know and whose opinions I couldn't care less about is what life is all about, right??

And it sounds like the class behind me really kicked ass and took names in the clerkship department. Good for them. Although I worry that many of them will die of heart attacks before they hit 50; they seem so high strung. I thought I was high strung, but I am pretty sure that this crop takes the cake and makes me look positively relaxed. Or maybe it's just the fact that they're all together a lot and they feed off each other's high-strung-ness. Like that'll get any better in a clerkship followed by life at BigLaw.

* Which is invariably true; I only work as late as I do every day of the week because the garage is free after 6 p.m. and, since I never have cash, I generally can't leave any earlier.

** Clearly the person who responds this way should really think of honing his strategy. Or wait. Maybe it's true that nothing makes people open their wallets like being called a bitch.

A total misunderestimation

Last year I had an awful interview where the interviewer spent most of the time telling me how worthless and stupid my undergrad major was. Kept telling me I should have majored in math. That would show I was actually smart (because apparently my performance in law school didn't shed any light on that). Well, here's why I didn't major in math: I was off by about $400 when estimating my monthly take-home pay. If I thought my budget was ugly before, it's really bad now. Looks like the cereal diet will continue indefinitely. I guess I should buy some vitamins or something to make up for the meat and other essentials I'm missing. At least I'll get some calcium, which is good seeing as how I have osteopenia in my mid-twenties and would hate to see that progress into something that's actually worth worrying about. And I'll lose a little chin fat. Losing a little chin fat never hurt anyone. Maybe I'll mix it up this week with some Raisin Bran (not the name brand kind but the generic kind). I'm really making a go of this whole budgeting thing--I didn't renew my subscription to Us Weekly. It's a sad day when a girl can't even get her weekly dose of celebrity gossip. Sad, sad day.

There is good news in this post. I was worried I would have to go shopping for work clothes when I got here. Turns out I work with four men who, from what I can tell, pay absolutely no attention to what I wear. I am sure that I could probably get away with wearing the same outfit three days in a row and no one would notice. This doesn't mean I am wearing sensible shoes or anything. I'm not letting myself go. But at least I know that my current wardrobe is more than adequate.

Throwing money out the window

I love my apartment here. It's an old building with cool doorknobs and other assorted charming things. But the former tenant told me that the heating bill is huge in the winter because the windows apparently aren't energy efficient. The heat just goes right on out. He said that a tenant in one of the other apartments bought some kind of window insulation stuff that looks like big scotch tape. I saw it at Wal-Mart the other day. Has anyone ever used this stuff? Worth it?

The good news is that I am off the interview hook tomorrow, meaning I can get some work done. The bad news is that I am on the interview hook, alone, all day on Saturday. I am sure that I'll probably be an easygoing interviewer, so the poor souls have nothing to fear.

When Time Warner Cable moved around all the channels a few years ago, I remember being annoyed because I didn't know where my channels were. But the whole grouped-by-theme thing grew on me. And now I miss it. When I want news, I can't just skim five channels in a row. Not that I watch much news anymore. But if I wanted to, it would be harder.

How to not make a good impression

Remember that episode of Friends where Joey says that something is a "moo point." It's like a cow's opinion; it doesn't matter. It's moo. I assume that everyone has seen that, so when I drop that line people look at me like I'm a total idiot that doesn't know that the point is actually moot. I guess not everyone watched Friends. Same goes for the line in Pretty in Pink where Ducky Dale says something that sounds like "toush" instead of "touche." Remind me to not say "toush." Especially to men since it's much more likely that men have either never seen Pretty in Pink or don't remember this line if they have seen it.

Thank goodness for rebates and deposit refunds. I got some money that I can use to (a) pay the student loan payment that was actually due last week but that I only paid 1/3 of because I didn't actually have any more to give them, and (b) pay the other three student loan payments that are due within the next few days. I know some people kept their BarBari books. I wanted them gone from my life and I wanted the book deposit back. I don't think it's hubris. Heck, maybe I failed. But $175 never seemed so important to me. Ditto for the rebates received from the cell phone company from when Mr. Raisins finally moved him into the new millennium with a cell phone and I got myself a really cute new cell phone.

I make five different student loan payments a month. I consolidated when I graduated from college. Unfortunately I didn't know at the time that interest rates would drop like they did, so I am locked in at 7.75%, which totally sucks. What sucks more is the private loan from undergrad that has an interest rate of over 12%. Then I have a few consolidation loans from law school at much better rates. But I am not good enough at math to figure out if I should put all or some of this crap into one loan or what. So I make five student loan payments a month. By the end of the year I'll be making seven or eight as my grace period ends on a few more loans. I think I may lose my mind. Nevermind, I have lost my mind.

I knew it

I knew it. There is a conspiracy to make us look like idiots when all we're trying to do is look cool. This is why I am not a trendy dresser.

Glad and glad

I'm glad I get cable tomorrow. Please God, let there be a Project Runway marathon. I haven't seen an episode since the dress-my-mom show. I was supposed to have gotten cable by now, but I had to work when they were supposed to come and it takes forever to get a weekend appointment. I don't know why the cable company keeps bankers' hours. I mean, I could have gotten a weekday appointment in a matter of days. But of course I work. So I had to wait weeks for a weekend appointment. You'd think that if there's such a high demand for the after-hours appointments, the cable company would have more people available during those times. But that would make sense, so of course the cable company won't think of doing it.

I'm glad that I have my job. I am thankful for my job. I love my job. And, after looking through a gazillion applications, I realize that I am lucky to have it.

I'm glad for the book I'm reading. All I had with me when I moved was my boring history book that I finished and East of Eden, which I only had because my brother left it in my car a long time ago. I usually don't do fiction, but I didn't have anything else, so I cracked it open. Totally addictive. I've read Steinbeck before and as far as I remember I enjoyed whatever I read. But I'm really enjoying this one. After that, it's on to other things. EY has assigned me a book that I will buy as soon as I get paid. I'll buy a lot of books when I get paid. The library here is supposed to be good and I guess I could get books there, but I like to keep my books. I sometimes reread them. And I also like for people to see all of my books and think of how well read I must be. That's probably the real reason. Except that no one ever hangs out at my apartment or even comes to my apartment. So maybe I just do it to remind myself how well read I am.

I'm glad that I am doing really well at just being happy with where I am. I have a tendency to compare myself to other people and focus on what I don't have or what I didn't accomplish rather than all the reasons I have to be thankful. I'm getting far better at just being able to look at what I have and be happy for it. I'm sure I'll always be fighting off some form of evil self-doubt, but I'm getting better.

Ewww

Is it just me or is Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas one of the scariest looking women on the planet? Like a young, toned Joan Rivers. She's got abs to die for and maybe I'm supposed to think she's hot because she refers to her "lovely lady lumps" in what has to be one of the most annoying songs ever made. But her face scares me. It's like she took some dangerous cocktail of collagen, restalyn, and botox and injected all of it into her face. I guess she doesn't know that whatever she's doing is making her look older. Maybe whatever she's doing now will ensure that she'll look great when she's old. But I doubt it.

On another note, Jessica Simpson says she hasn't done anything to her lips after restalyn made her look like she was pouting after someone punched her in the face a few months ago. The unfortunate cover of the most recent Us Weekly says otherwise.

Ladies, if you're gonna inject crap into your face (not that there's anything wrong with that) the goal should be to smooth some stuff out and look the same as you otherwise do. Don't try going into Cher territory because only Cher can pull that off.

lazy days

I just finished a detailed history of the Middle East and I feel like I did after watching Good Night and Good Luck: How can people take interesting subjects and make them utterly and completely boring? I've read a number of books on the region and this one, although far more detailed, was the hardest to get through. Parts of it read like the really long passages in the Bible regarding who begat whom. I'm glad it's over. Now I can move on to something else. I need to order a few books, but for now I have some things laying around that will tide me over.

I decided to go shopping yesterday. I keep hearing commercials for a discount store here in town, so I decided to go. It was like the scene in Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion where Lisa Kudrow's character gets a job at the Barney's outlet and has to leave immediately because it's just sad. But I stuck around and dug. Managed to get some dress pants for $15 that would have cost closer to $80 at the store from whence they came. The store also had some decent denim. But my days of living in jeans are over, so I passed up the opportunity to get some cheap Earnest Sewns. I also went to Wal-Mart because I needed some essentials. I used this as an opportunity to pretend to shop by just walking up and down just about every single aisle. It was therapeutic. Other than that I have spent the greater part of the weekend sitting on my large covered porch reading. It's a nice porch and the weather is great - highs near 80 during the day. So I just sit out there all day long.

Today I may try out my RoboMaid. The old tenant left it behind for me. It appears to be something of an automatic swiffer propelled by a ball and will hopefully be good at getting the dustbunnies that are a natural part of life when you have cats and hardwoods. We'll see if it scares the shit out of the cats. I think this is the fun I've been looking for.

Even when I win, I lose

So I started thinking that maybe I was paying too much for car insurance, so I go online and get some quotes. Turns out I am paying too much for car insurance. So I settle on a new company, thinking that the savings will cover like 2/3 of my cable bill. Sweet. Then I call to cancel my other policy. Between the cancellation fee and other such nonsense, I owe the old insurance company almost exactly what I was saving by switching. Even my best efforts at budgeting are being thwarted.* I guess in six months it will make sense.

And I don't have to work this weekend because I think I am all caught up. I mean, not like all caught up, but in a good place. Not that I have anything to do besides work. Although I did make sure to bring my Star Wars box set with me when I moved. So, between Star Wars and the cats, I guess I have reached a new, nerdly low.

I am torn. I need a new suit. I only have 2 that I really like and one of them doesn't have pants, just a skirt. I prefer pants so as to avoid anyone seeing my legs. My other suits are ill-fitting monstrosities involving poly-blends that I got as a 1L when I was broke and trying to get a jobby-job. I was talking to my sister about this and she offers to get me a new suit as a late graduation present. Which is awesome. She's insisting on it. But since I owe her a not-insignificant amount of money, I am thinking that I'd be better off knocking off part of the debt. Which just makes me feel cheap, like I'm trying to not pay her back. And it's less fun. I'd still be paying her every month and wouldn't have a new suit. It's a tough call. I think I am going with the suit option. Instant gratification.

* To anyone who wants to say something about how if I'm budgeting I shouldn't have cable: Shut up. Some things are just necessary. It's not like I'm getting highlights anytime soon, and those are really necessary.

What it would feel like to give birth through your foot

So, the other night I was sitting on my couch and I felt this creeping pain in my foot. I looked down and the second-to-last toe (right next to the little piggy) is in a weird position - like if I were to spread all my toes out. I had a toe cramp. I could not will my toe back into its normal position. Have you ever had a toe cramp? It hurts like hell. And I couldn't quite figure out how to massage it out. Speaking of giving birth, here's a shout out to AB and Baby Barraza. I hope you had lots of drugs, AB. And I can totally sympathize with whatever pain you were going through. You know, because I had a toe cramp and that hurt. A lot.

Speaking of toes, the evil company with cartoon internet ads and television commercials for its toe fungus stuff should really just stop. The idea of toenail infections is gross enough. I don't need the animated version.

And, despite the fact that I'm still a little lonely, I have discovered one benefit of living alone. When I know I will want to drink a lot of juice, like more than one glass, and don't feel like constantly getting up to get more juice, I can just bring the carton into the living room and drink straight from it. It's pretty awesome. As is my life. It's the little things.

will blog for food

So I don't get paid this week. I get paid 2 weeks from this Friday. I have $50. And the level of deficit spending going on is unlike anything I've ever engaged in. I have made something of a budget that will hopefully let me get my credit cards paid off in a year, my sister (a.k.a. the provider of my interest-free bar loan) paid off in six months, and other assorted people paid off within 2 months. I think my budget leaves me an amount less than $200 for life after bills. I weep for myself and all the shoes I won't be buying, the highlights I won't be getting, and the cereal I will be eating for every meal for the foreseeable future. The upside is that I don't have to worry about my gut spilling over even more. Since cereal doesn't really give you a gut (I'm a Cheerios girl).

I know, if everyone who reads this blog sends me like a dollar, I'll have like $10. Then I'd be more financially secure. Cough it up people, I've earned it by giving you a destination on the Web to visit when you really should be working.

So, that song about the horse and the cherry tree (made famous by the chick on American Idol who didn't win) is on the radio all the time here. Which is really annoying. I don't know anything about music and don't pretend to, but I know when a song is annoying as shit and this song is annoying as shit. Why it's like the most popular song in the world where I live is a mystery.

Let the games begin

I am one of those people who is rarely comfortable. Even in the summer, once the car is nice and cool, I really don't need the A/C blasting away. Makes me cold. I wear a pashmina at work because I'm cold. I wore the same two hoodies to law school for three years because I was cold. Today I had to leave work (yes, I was working on a holiday; my life is sad, I know) because it was so cold that I couldn't really feel my feet, my nose was running, and my hands were so cold I couldn't type. So I left and started a two-hour boondoggle to find a heater appropriate for use in the office. Turns out that my original plan to hit up the super Wal-Mart was right on the money. Unfortunately, I kept hoping that every store I stopped at along the way would have something to meet my needs. I suppose I could have borrowed the super-fancy, remote-controlled heater in the office of one of my coworkers, but he seems like maybe he's not the kind of guy who's okay with other people just borrowing his stuff. I should probably wait until I'm sure he can stand me before I move into borrowing territory. And Mader may have convinced him that I'm a spastic troll, so we'll see how long it takes to get into his good graces.

This week begins the avalanche of clerkship applications. I can smell the tension in law schools and journal offices everywhere. It really is a little tortuous that you're not supposed to get calls for interviews for like a week. Whatevs. I got through it and so will they. Maybe they can experience the crushing feeling of rejection that inspires adults to cry openly on airplanes as they fly home in defeat. Or the feeling that comes along with showing up at an interview only to have the judge walk out of his office with one of your friends and say, "I'm sure you two know each other. Sorry you came all the way out here, but I just hired your friend." And having that happen more than once. Or getting a law school essay question during an interview whose subject matter is nowhere within your universe of knowledge or experience and literally laughing out loud in response because, in reality, this interview has gone so far off course that all you can do is laugh and hope you don't fall on your face on your way out the door. Because not falling on your face is the best you can hope for. The list goes on and on.

But most interviews won't be like that. Most people will land something and, in the end, everyone will end up where they're supposed to. So don't freak out, and feel free to slap some sense into those who are freaking out. And remember that no one likes an asshole. Unless you're the guy who got a clerkship with Kozinski. Who cares if anyone likes you. I'd go ahead and make a t-shirt to mark the occassion. Because, well, you're a badass and you can always make new friends.

I'd like that time back, please

I just watched Closer. I want that 2 hours back. Movies involving tragedy should be sad. Movies involving romance and couples should be happy. Reality is depressing enough. Why would I want to watch a movie that isn't sad enough to make me cry, but is depressing enough to make me depressed? I always try to watch a few Oscar contenders just because I figure that I should watch some "good" movies every now and again. It almost always turns out to be a waste of time. Since I'm convinced that Tommy Boy is one of the greatest movies ever made, I guess I should just stop trying to watch movies that critics think are good and stick to Jack Black and Will Ferrell.

What smells like miso soup?

I do. Or I did. For much of the day. I managed to spill the entire thing all over my pants. So then I got to wear wet pants. That smelled like miso soup. And I managed to drop the soup at lunch in front of all of my coworkers, including the boss. Good thing I already got the job. Then I got into a debate about when it's appropriate to split the infinitive. I'm a big fan of split infinitives. Which means I have to be careful. But I also know that sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet and do it. So I did. And I'm not changing it unless the boss is also of the mindset that there's never a good reason to split the infinitive.

So, yes. This is my life. It's gotten much less exciting in the past few weeks. And I think I am officially a cat lady. I'm sure I was a cat lady before, but since I was living with Mr. Raisins, I think I wasn't officially a cat lady. Now that I'm all alone without my better half, I am one of those people who comes home to an empty apartment, eats a sad dinner comprised mostly of children's snack foods, a talks to my cats because, well, there's no one else to talk to. I mean, I don't talk to them a lot. Just a little. But I don't think this fact makes it any less sad.

So there's no one here who thinks that the occassional happy hour is a good idea. They also live alone, so I'm not quite sure what excitement they have going on after work. So, no beer for me since that would invovle either drinking alone at home or drinking alone at a bar. Either scenario seems sad to me.

Come visit. Please. I don't even care if you're some stranger who managed to stumble into this wellspring of insight and brilliance.