Posts Tagged ‘random’



February 6, 2011

how can one half of a person be so happy at what she has achieved, and the other half so achingly alone? last weekend i was so busy with different events and people that it wasn’t hard to keep my mind on a leash. but this weekend, no matter how much i will it to love me, my phone remains mute. when i have too much time on my hands, i resent waking up every morning and reaching for no one. if i cook, i halve the recipe because it’s far too much for one person. i hold off watching netflix movies as if i’m waiting for someone. i buy a new see-through nothing even though my only audience is a dog and kitten. i sit on my stylish leather couch in my perfectly decorated contemporary living room and watch the evening light fade to black. everything about my life is waiting for a man who is not there, and may never be.

when i consider my future, i know there are so many meaningful things in my life to which i could devote myself. especially as an attorney, there are an unlimited amount of victims to help. and yet somehow, all i can focus on is the thousands of times i will come home to an empty house, a dinner alone, a cold bed. i hurt sometimes with this desire to just BE with someone. literally actually—my cunt aches.

hopefully things change when i start work. i certainly don’t want to feel like my life is filler time until i meet a guy, especially since that kind of shallowness would not support anyone’s attention anyway. i have a feeling if i just had one gal pal to take on the city, i wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely. unfortunately, all my girlfriends are adorably paired-off. oh, how disgustingly adorably.

in other news, it has been exactly six months and three days since i have had sex.


ramblings on a recent life change

January 24, 2011

my first post in months is thesis-less and all over the place, but if you’re patient, you can share some good news with me!

my whole life, i’ve always wanted to categorize people. introvert, extrovert, popular kid, nerd, jock. and yet, if i don’t fall into any clear-cut categories, it’s unlikely anyone else does. my entire life, i’ve over-analyzed, watched from the outside, been painfully self-conscious and brutally self-critical. in middle school, i dreaded getting off the bus because i was scared of tripping. no joke, i would tensely wait in my seat, picturing how i would get up and hold my bag just so in order to smoothly exit the vehicle. i hated it. i was self-conscious about getting up in class, or having to talk to a teacher. i rehearsed conversations in my head, and took different routes through school hallways because it was easier than having to figure out how to interact with certain people. i didn’t like shopping for clothes because i felt intimidated by the other girls in the juniors’ department. i’m still like this over a decade later. i always feel other people’s eyes on me, but am much more adept at faking nonchalance and confidence.

which is why in high school, i shocked everyone (including myself) when i actually chose to audition for the school’s very exclusive and very popular show choir. even more jaw-dropping, i made it into the choir and even wracked up a solo which i performed over a dozen times.

now, at age 25, looking for a position somewhere as an attorney, i’m surprising myself again. i so very badly want to be a prosecutor. why, as someone so awkward and insecure, someone who has rampant insomnia because of her neuroses, would i want to be an attorney who must be in court five days a week? on record, doing trials, before a judge and jury scrutinizing my every action and word?

it’s a mystery. you would think i would be happier hiding in an office where i could limit the number of energy-sapping social interactions. just write some contracts, do some legal research and call it a day. during an internship, i did a few trials for petty crimes. it’s nerve-wracking. it can go very well, or very, very badly. and murphy’s law says that the courtroom will be packed on your bad days and empty on your good.

i do know that in a public situation, when you do something right, it’s the best feeling in the world. maybe that’s it, maybe i’m a gambler. i want those intense highs, and for it, i’ll risk some major humiliation. but why am i this way? why, for example, do i keep planning parties at my place when the stress of wondering who will come or if they’ll have fun is so exhausting? why strive for jobs for which i have no natural ability, social events which could go terribly wrong, and guys i feel are completely out of my league? for someone so scared of life, you would think i would stay in my comfort zone.

instead, i want to be a prosecutor. and guess what? the dream is coming true: starting in march, i will be a prosecutor for one of the top ten largest counties in the united states. i read that and i shiver.

i don’t think i could have chosen a job with a more mentally grueling and anxiety-causing interview process. it spanned from September 11th, 2010 to January 13th, 2011: **DISCLAIMER** i’m sure you will all find the rest of this boring, but i want to document my journey for posterity’s sake.

  • interview #1, aka “the dead baby in the cooler” test–my mother always says, don’t try to look attractive for an interview, look competent. and so there i was, suited up, hair pulled into a chignon, a single strand of pearls. heart-pounding. you know when you can actually hear the blood pumping in your ears? just like that. i prepared by googling my interviewer and creating a document with every possible interview question i’d ever been asked, and solid answers i could give. i walk into the interview, prepared to earnestly explain to this woman why i’m the right person for this job. what do i get? a hypothetical wherein (do you like that nice legal insert?) a man goes about kidnapping babies, putting them into his cooler, going out onto a lake, and throwing the babies into the water. the cooler is a very standard plastic blue cooler. so, one afternoon, another baby is taken and in the wee hours of the night, an officer sees a man about to get onto a boat holding a blue cooler. can the officer search the cooler? talk about an “oh shit” moment. it felt difficult to breathe and even more difficult to think of a coherent thought. why didn’t i think to study criminal procedure? the interview went from bad to worse as i talked myself into a corner. i left the interview, my confidence crushed. i immediately went home and wrote a sincere and, if i do say so myself, eloquent email to this woman begging her to call my supervisor and get a real understanding of my abilities and passion for the job.
  • it worked. callback interview #1, aka “dead baby revisited”–this time i’m really prepared. one week of going over all my old criminal procedure notes from law school and bar exam studying. i am determined to make a better impression. what do i get hit with this time? first, he wanted to know why i felt the need to write the email to my first interviewer (um, duh, because i sucked and i really, really wanted a second chance). two, he was back on that darned dead baby hypo. well, obviously i’d thought about it some and i had a few different ideas of how to get that officer’s itchy little hands into that cooler. i spun off a few of my theories, thinking i was so smart. did the man seem impressed? nope. complete dead pan. instead, he mentioned how they had over 400 applicants for just ten positions, and that i should really have a back up plan. he sympathized with recent law graduates with the economy being as it is, and said it would almost be better to still be in school. ok, that’s all folks, my rejection letter is as good as in the mail.
  • ok, maybe not. callback interview #2, aka “the three levels of  hell and meeting the queen”–i imagine the only reason i received a second callback is because the previous attorneys i had worked with wrote me some very good reviews. bless them a hundred times over. new suit, new pearls, new pumps (annoyingly, the right shoe squeaked with each step). interview is at 3 pm. i’m fifteen minutes early. i wait. and wait. and wait some more. it’s almost 4 pm when someone comes and gets me from the lobby. we go to the 4th floor where i’m ushered into another waiting area. another half hour passes while i desperately scan the copy of “Super Lawyers” on the table next to me. at 4:33, a secretary invites me into an imposing conference room with ten seats and no people. i set my purse far enough away from my feet that i won’t trip getting up. i try to pose so that i look professional but can still get up quickly to shake the queen’s hand. i put my hands palms up on my lap so they won’t collect sweat. the minutes tick by. i’m starting to feel nauseous and my palms are sweating anyway. 28 grueling minutes later, she walks in. i remember wondering if she purposely makes her interviewees go through two hours and three levels of waiting hell just to ratchet up their anxiety level by the time she walks into the room. as the head of the entire prosecutor’s office, this is a woman who is on tv with precious little time to waste. and here she is, shaking my hand.  strangely, at the most intense and important of the three interviews, i did my best. i spoke well and made her laugh a few times. we ended up getting off onto a few tangents until she would suddenly check her watch and say, goodness we’re off track but that was so interesting! one of her final questions was also to ask me why i felt the need to write that email to the first interviewer. it surprised me. don’t people do things like that when they are truly passionate about a position? i told her i’m not afraid to put myself out there for something i want. she complimented me and said that i was very intuitive and eloquent. i practically skipped out of there. my “intuitive” self felt like i’d aced the interview. just three days later, i get a call from the hiring coordinator stating that they are offering me a position for the march class. i called my mother right after i got off the phone and screamed something unintelligible into the phone. i even called my dad, who isn’t exactly my best buddy. it was an amazing day, and i’m still floating on that high.

2011, you are shaping up to be my best year yet.