The firm where I work is looking to hire a new legal assistant. Since I am one of the lucky attorneys that will be assigned to work with the new hire, I was asked to participate in the interviews. I must say, it was an interesting experience to be on the other end of the table; asking the ridiculous questions rather than scrambling to answer them without sounding like a total idiot. On the one hand, it was reassuring to know that everyone struggles to sound coherent under that kind of pressure. On the other hand, I got a little tired of hearing how "perfectionism" is such a weakness. Really? Could you be any more cliche? Anyway, after interviewing 5 applicants and tossing out fluster-inducing questions like "What's the worst thing you've ever done in a job that your boss doesn't know about?", we narrowed the field to our top three and the hiring partner called the applicant at the top of the list to offer her the job. Minutes after she accepted, the office bookkeeper casually asked if we had Googled the applicant to whom the job had just been offered. No, but now that you mention it... It turns out our top pick had been arrested and placed on administrative leave from her last job just two weeks ago on charges of official misconduct, theft II, four counts of computer crime and four counts of forgery I. Funny, when I asked why she left her last job, she said she was interested in getting back into the private sector because there were more opportunities there. Yeah, I guess she wasn't lying, but I didn't realize just what opportunities she was referring to. Needless to say, that offer was quickly rescinded, but let that be a lesson to you all. Good idea: applying for a job in a field in which you're well experienced and qualified, and being polished and professional enough in your interview to get a job offer. Bad idea: failing to realize the number one Google hit on your name is a newspaper article advertising the fact that two weeks ago, you were fired from your last job for theft, forgery and official misconduct and you may be facing jail time. I think my favorite part about this story is that she asked to have her start date moved back until next Tuesday as opposed to Monday because she was going to be "traveling with her family" on Monday. Yes, traveling to the courthouse for an initial appearance. Epic FAIL!!!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
2010 midterm madness via Facebook status updates.

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Wednesday, October 13, 2010
I have a dream
I love Portland. I pretty much love everything about this tree-hugging hippie nirvana, but at this very moment, I am utterly and irretrievably on the wrong side of the country. Why, you ask? Because in two weeks, this is happening in our nation's glorious capital. When my favorite political satirist, Jon Stewart, issued his clarion call to the so-called busy majority, I instantly thought, "Hey! That's me!!!" I easily fit into that category of people who..."think shouting is annoying, counterproductive, and terrible for your throat; who feel that the loudest voices shouldn’t be the only ones that get heard; and who believe that the only time it’s appropriate to draw a Hitler mustache on someone is when that person is actually Hitler. Or Charlie Chaplin in certain roles." As we sink deeper and deeper into the mire of mid-term elections, I find it ironically fitting that the only person pleading for a return to sanity is a guy who makes a very lucrative living from his spot-on skewering of the idiotic actions and remarks of public figures. Where is the sanity? (And don't bother pointing out to me the inherent contradiction between my asking where the sanity is, and having a blog that boasts a quote about insanity in the header. I'm aware of that fact.) Who thought it would be a good idea to create a dedicated media forum for the crazy people? And why are said crazy people always the ones screaming the loudest? (I'm looking at you Fox News, and all your inane and incendiary talking heads) Oh yeah. It's because the sane people aren't screaming at all. It's not that we don't care. We care deeply. We're just a little too busy doing sane things like, oh, I don't know...working real jobs; the kind that require a degree from an institution a little more legitimate than the Glenn Beck University. It's tough to sneak away to a crazy person rally if you're gainfully employed. And in all honesty, I'm not really the type to want to attend any kind of large scale event where piping hot b.s. is served up for my consumption. But I desperately want to attend Jon Stewart's rally. I don't think it will have the effect of bringing down demagogues of the unfair and imbalanced, a la Tucker Carlson and "Crossfire," though that would be awesome. I'm just glad someone is finally acknowledging the fact that the nation isn't completely comprised of hyper-polarized d-bags and nut jobs, but that there are plenty of us who fall in the netherworld of sanity. Which brings me back to my original dilemma. I live on the wrong side of the country. I can't afford the impromptu trip out there, so I'm accepting donations and/or free plane tickets from anyone who cares to contribute to the cause of sanity. Any takers?
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Friday, October 1, 2010
Oooh, shiny!
As I was checking out my hair in a mirror today, something I do quite frequently on days when I don't just wear it in a ponytail (you know you fret about your hair too, so don't judge), I noticed something out of the ordinary. My hair and I have a long and tortured history. It's too curly, too poufy, too thick and it can clog a drain like nobody's business. And it happens to be one of my best features. Go figure. But while I may not have any particular affinity for the size of my hair (it's large), I have always loved the color. I made the mistake of bleaching my hair once when I was in college, and I was so horrified at the result that I resolved never to mess with the color of my hair again. Today I noticed that the light over the mirror was reflecting on a particular strand of my hair that seemed most out of place. My first thought was, "Oooh, shiny!" But then I realized it wasn't highlight shiny. Oh no. This strand was tinsel shiny. I gave it a tug, thinking it surely couldn't be attached, but it definitely was firmly connected to my head. When I was in law school, my hair fell out by the handful, but it never went gray, like I half expected it to. Evidently it wanted to save that particular transformative act for later. Like right now. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that. My first inclination was not to go out and buy some hair dye, so I guess that's good. I decided after seeing "The Devil Wears Prada" that I wanted to rock a perfect silver coif like Meryl Streep, and neatly sidestep the hair coloring that seems like such a futile attempt to cling to youth. However, I did not think I'd be faced with the possibility of rocking that look in my twenties. Seriously, hair, what is your deal? I'm too young for this!
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Saturday, September 25, 2010
Free fallin'
Not long ago, Scott and I had a conversation about how we'd like to celebrate our 30th birthdays. Without hesitation, I said I wanted to go skydiving...and I wanted him to go with me. He laughed it off, thinking with two more years to go, he'd have plenty of time to convince me to change my birthday wish. Last month, when I was having a particularly rough day at work, I got an email from Scott, telling me one of his co-workers was trying to get a group together to go skydiving, and did I want to go? Um, duh? So I diverted some funds away from the black hole of student loan repayment and coughed up the cash, eager for the chance to plummet from a plane at 13,000 feet. Scott didn't quite share my enthusiasm, but ever the sport, he agreed to accompany me. After weeks of anticipation, the day at last arrived. Today. We drove out to Molalla, aka Middle of Nowhere, Oregon. What better place for a jump? As soon as we handed over the balance of the fee, we were presented with a 10 page legal waiver, reminding us of the obvious fact that jumping out of an airplane is an inherently dangerous activity, and should we end up a greasy spot on the landing field, our next of kin can forget about suing the diving school. We signed our lives away and were presented with two tickets entitling us each to a tandem jump. We were led back into a small classroom for our jump training, which was literally five minutes long. An instructor told us not to flail in freefall, demonstrated how to lift our feet at landing, and told us not to walk into the plane's propeller because it would be really expensive to fix. I'm not sure I felt particularly encouraged by that little speech, and I definitely didn't feel instructed, but since it was a tandem jump, I figured my jump buddy would be doing the bulk of the work, so I would just focus on not flailing. We spent the next three hours watching the crowds thin, as groups of people went up in the sky, disappeared from view, reappeared as tiny specks spilling from the back of the plane, glided back down to earth, and dropped to the ground. After watching several people make not so smooth looking landings, I decided I didn't want to ruin the jeans I was wearing by making a butt landing. It just looked painful. The hours passed and any jitters we might have had ebbed as we waited. Soon, we were all just itching to get on with it. We took tons of pictures and goofed around to pass the time. At long last, we were the very last people left in the queue. They called us in to harness up and pair us with a tandem buddy. I was paired with our instructor. Very reassuring. I was sure to stay away from the propeller, per his instructions. Then...it was time. We loaded into the plane, and since I was the last to board, I was at the front of the line to jump. The plane took off and began ascending. At 3,000 feet, my jump buddy hooked his harness to mine and tried to make small talk over the extremely loud noises of the engine. I think he expected me to be much more nervous than I was. At 10,000 feet, he pointed out the window and drew my attention to the winding Willamette, and downtown Portland in the distance. Oh my. At 13,000 feet, a solo jumper opened the door to the plane and my tandem buddy started scooting me forward. He asked me if I was ready to jump. Well, if I wasn't, it was a little late for second thoughts. There was no way I was going to back out now. The solo jumper disappeared, followed quickly by a guy from our group sitting to my right. Before I knew it, I was standing at the open door of the plane and out we fell!!!! At first, I was completely disoriented. The horizon tilted and when I realized I was falling, I squeezed my eyes shut and started screaming my head off, but only for a second or two. I opened my eyes and took it all in. It was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen and the most unbelievable feeling in the world. Free fall lasted just over a minute, which wasn't nearly long enough. When my tandem buddy pulled the parachute, I remembered to start screaming again. He asked me if I get motion sickness, and if you know me at all, you know I get raging car sickness and have had that problem since childhood. But I wanted an adventure!! So of course I lied through my teeth and said I did not! He then proceeded to test my resolve, and demonstrate his ability to dip and twirl and spin the chute in the air. It was better than any roller coaster I'd ever been on. The ground started coming up on us fast, and I asked him if we could possibly avoid a butt landing. He said the wind was picking up, making the landing a little precarious, but he'd try. When he told me to pull up my feet, I did, and when he told me to run, I ran. And my butt never touched the ground. It was the perfect jump. I can't wait to do it again!!!! But now what am I going to do for the big 3-0? I'm open to suggestions!
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Friday, August 27, 2010
Cuenta y verás...
Sometimes it overwhelms me to look at my life and realize how completely blessed I am. Last week, utterly out of the blue, I got a call from a friend with whom I haven't had contact in over a year. He tells me that his law firm is looking to hire a new associate, and asks me if I'm interested in interviewing for the position. Yes, I was definitely interested. The interview was on Friday, and on Monday evening I got a call from the hiring partner telling me the job was mine if I wanted it. Better pay, benefits and the opportunity to try my hand at something new. I took several days to think it over, and when I decided to accept, I found myself in the unenviable position of having to break the news to my current boss. My current boss is quite possibly the coolest person alive. He gave me a shot right out law school, has been a great mentor and is a fantastic boss. If the pay were better and the work was something I'm actually interested in, I'd probably stay here indefinitely. When I went to tell my boss that I'm leaving, his reaction was not one of annoyance or anger, but of excitement for me, at having such a great opportunity fall into my lap. He said he was sorry to see me go, but that the door would always be open to me if I decide to return. No guilt trip, no ploys to get me to stay, no pressure. So I'm moving on to a new job, new skill set, new co-workers and a new adventure. Scott is also in the process of obtaining new employment, and though it has been long and arduous (and promises to remain so for a while), things appear to be falling into place for him as well. Taking stock of my life really helps me keep things in perspective. I have had the opportunity to accomplish everything I ever set out to do. I have the privilege of sharing those amazing experiences with the person I love most in this world. I want for nothing. And I am grateful.
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Thursday, August 12, 2010
MLIA moment
One of my favorite time wasters online is the fabulous site, My Life Is Average.com. It's a site where people congregate to swap little affirmations about things that happen in their lives that make them "average." In reality, while some of the postings are truly mundane, most of the postings are not average at all, and the apparent goal is to have the most random/awesome/unbelievable thing happen to you. As you read it, you're fairly certain that an occurrence like the following would never happen in real life:
"Today, I was at my friend's house and found duct tape in his kitchen. Naturally, I tackled him to the ground, duct taped his hands behind his back, duct taped his mouth, and sat on him. His sister walked in. No, she did not high-five me. She just looked confused and awkwardly walked away."
Yesterday I was leaving the office, carrying a large notebook full of exhibits for an upcoming arbitration hearing. I had to make a pit stop before heading to my car, and as I went to wash my hands, I realized the entire counter was wet and there was nowhere to put my notebook. So I set it down on top of the paper towel dispenser, which is one of those motion activated contraptions that shakes ever so slightly as it lowers each paper towel. I washed my hands, activated the dispenser and wiped my hands dry. Just as I did, I noticed my notebook was starting to wobble. I threw away the paper towel and held out my hands, just as the notebook fell into them. I looked around for witnesses to my awesomeness, but alas, there were none. At that moment, the only thing I could think was, "My life is average," as I put on my sunglasses and went home.
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