Burned.

So, Sky called this afternoon, after a very long weekend of silence. Unfortunately, he wasn't dead or severely injured in a car accident. Nope, he was actually avoiding me because he wanted to avoid the fallout that would happen when he told me his wife was moving back into the house. The one he's divorcing. That wife. He knew I would stop talking to him if he told me, thus the four long days of silence.

He still wanted to be friends. And he meant it. He's the only person I've ever known to utter that phrase with sincerity. In pleading his case, he said that I have a lot of male friends, and he's not sure why he couldn't be one of them. Yeah. We aren't friends. We never were, and we certainly aren't going to be in the future. As Marky Mark once said, if you're not in it to win it, then get the hell out. I command you to dance, now feel the vibration. OK, too far. Anyway, you get my gist.

When confronted with my comment that we aren't friends and the point of us talking was because I thought there was potential, he back-pedaled saying that, if we weren't friends, he wasn't sure why we talked so much (every day for about four months). After all, he is married, hasn't seen me in years and we live far away. Um, maybe because I love him, and he asked me if we were a possibility and we approached this whole thing with the idea that, maybe, we'd some day be together. That's why. So, I told him to fuck himself for saying that this was all my fault and I should have known better. True, I should have. But it wasn't just me. Married men who are staying with their wives don't email people they've never met to plan a surprise visit for my birthday. Those men don't talk about the future. Those men don't buy me thoughtful gifts. Those men don't call every day, multiple times a day. They don't talk about moving to the frozen tundra. And so on and so forth.

So, I spent half the day devastated. And angry. And crying.

And then he called back a few hours later. He sounded sheepish and asked if I wanted to hear something "funny." Indeed, I did, as I was in need of a good laugh. Turns out, his wife is not moving in and, in fact, they are no longer reconciling. He acted as though I'd think that was good news. I said it was actually pretty funny. Because now he's left with none. He said he felt stupid. I said that, strangely, I knew exactly how he felt. With quite a bit of sarcasm and irony included. He then launched into the whole "friends" thing and it would be a shame if we no longer talked because he really liked talking to me.

I then told him to fuck himself for suggesting that the onus for my feeling bad was all on me. He couldn't understand why I wouldn't talk to him if "we" were off the table. Not to say "we" is off the table, but, you know, just hypothetically. That's when I pointed out that I'm not 19. I don't talk to ex-boyfriends or hook up with them, as it's a waste of time. I certainly don't entertain the thought of them moving here or driving 1000 miles to see me. What would be the point? I have enough friends. What I'm lacking is mate. And, I'd prefer one that isn't in the form of a mallet I keep hitting myself with over the head. Or a knife I keep stabbing into my heart. Or, well, you get the point.

Right or wrong, I can't be friends with him with the feelings I have for him if he doesn't have the same feelings for me. That makes me a jealous, vindictive person but, you know what, at least I'm honest about it. I can't suppress that and I can't be devastated every time he does this or finds a new girl to fall in love with. Why would I subject myself to that? Would I want to hear about him talk about other girls? I asked what he wanted me to do. Perhaps I could hook him up with my friends, find him a good wife? He didn't appreciate that sentiment either.

Anyway, he was exasperated by the end of that 2nd phone call, saying "I've really made a fucking mess of things." Yes, yes you have. I guarantee you he wishes he would have delayed that first phone call to me, so I would have been none the wiser.

Admittedly, I feel much better after the second conversation. Why? I'm not sure, although I think it has to do with a conversation I had with Sky five years ago. In the middle of a fight, during one of our multiple "on again" periods, he asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted him to feel as badly as I did. I don't think he feels as bad as I do. But, I think he's getting an idea of what that might feel like. Or, at least I can hope.

Now, I know what you're all thinking. And, trust me, I'm thinking the same thing. Shame on me for this. Really. But I really wanted to drink the kool-aid and prove that, in fact, it really is just kool-aid. Poison-free and rather enjoyable. I wanted to believe that it's possible to get what I need and what I want, all rolled up into one Dolce & Gabanna wrapped package.

Nope. Turns out sometimes shit is really just shit. No matter how much you want to believe it's really a boyfriend, fly it up here, and spend your 30th birthday with it.

Down with love.

Just phoning it in.

So, today was a big day. It is my two year anniversary from getting canned by Evil Spawn and His Incompetent Twin, P.C. And, as luck (fate) would have it, I had a meeting with my mentor. It was an opportunity to tell me everything I'm doing wrong. This was not relayed ahead of time, although I assumed it would be what it was because, well, I'm me. Anyway, we went to the bar and he pulled out a list of complaints written down on a piece of notebook paper. They are listed in order of importance and level of concern, with 1 being the greatest concern.

1. Facetime. My commitment to the M has been questioned because I'm not there enough. It seems that the staff and some of the attorneys (yes, I said staff) doesn't believe that I put in enough time to make them feel as though I really want to work there. So, to make everyone feel better about themselves, I need to be there from 8:45 a.m. to 5:30 every day, and no leaving for anything in the middle.

I pointed out that I've been doing "lawyer" things when I've been out of the office and Partner said that he knew that, but I maybe shouldn't do those things for awhile. Seriously. Apparently, it was a big mistake for me to go to the state bar association events that our firm encouraged us to go to. I've been to Siouxland twice in the last month and, apparently, that has ruffled some feathers because I'm galavanting across the state to make it look like both me and the firm are involved in the legal community. I was actually rear-ended on my way to one of those events, but still I went.

Which brings me to my next "excuse" for being out of the office: I was rear-ended. This resulted in several doctor appointments that had to happen before 5 p.m.

Oh, yeah, and I was out of the office for my TRIAL. That I won.

The Partner then said it's probably just the perception and it doesn't really matter to anyone that I'm actually working when I'm gone. Which is why I shouldn't do any bar activities or CLEs (i.e. education that I need to be a better attorney and I'm ethically obligated to attend) and things of that nature for at least 6-7 months.

So, because I'm out of the office working, the M questions whether I want to work there because I'm gone so frequently. Working.

2. I don't ask the partners for help.

Now, you think this would come after I screwed something up and did so because I didn't have the expertise to handle it myself. Nope, nothing wrong with my quality of work. The partners just think I should, as an associate, need more help. I'm supposed to ask partners who have never spent one day practicing family law for help. With my family law cases.

Here's the problem: I have asked for help multiple times. And I rarely get it. Partner is my mentor and, no shit, this is what happens when I ask for help.

Me: [timid knock on his door] Do you have 5 minutes for me?
Partner: No.
Me: [blank stare, unsure what to do next].
Partner: [sigh] I'll find you in a few minutes to see what you need.
Me: OK, that'd be great.
Partner: [never to be seen again].

He did say that it's his fault that he isn't more available, but that I need to make him listen to me and make him help me, even when he's too busy. So, apparently, the conversation should be as follows:

Me: [kick open office door and storm in] I need some help.
Partner: [surprised look on his face] No.
Me: No, I'm not fucking around this time. I need some fucking help.
Partner: No, I really don't have time.
Me: [sitting in chair] I'm not leaving until I get some help.
Partner: I am in the middle of something. I will come find you.
Me: I'm not falling for that one again. I'll just sit here until you're ready to deal with me.
Partner: Get out!
Me: No!
Partner: [calls security]

3. Time
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking they're upset about my billable hours. Nope. Wrong. I need to have my time entered before the end of the month. Before the bill cut off. Before I even bill it, maybe. See, we have a fee entry cut-off. No bills go out before then. So, me being logical, I don't enter my time into the computer program (I keep track on paper during the month) until the day before it's due. Apparently, this is not the right way to do things. I'm not entirely sure of the point of this, but it pisses them off.

4. Communication & Deadlines
I need to communicate with partners better, especially if I'm going to miss a deadline on one of their projects.

That's great, except (1) I don't do projects for other attorneys and, (2) I haven't missed a deadline.

I think, in all honesty, this is a firm-wide problem partners have with associates, so it was lumped in with all the other shit just as an FYI.

So, the bottom line, is that I love my job. Love it, love it, love it, love it.

I'm not sure what to do about court appearances. Maybe I can phone it in. Just like I've apparently been doing all along.

The Bride is Coming! The Bride is Coming!

OK, so HLC is the latest victim of the marriage scam. We need to help her pick out her shoes for the wedding. Yea!!!! This is my favorite part of the blog. Anyway, please submit your comments and preferences so we can help HLC pick out the right glass slipper.



Likes:

Door Number 1: Alfani "Nicki" Evening Sandal
Likes.
Dislikes
Where you might find me on a Friday night: Macy's.



Door Number 2: Women's Coloriffics Carmen
Where I'm doing my walk of shame on a Sunday morning. Amazon.com



Door Number 3: Women's Coloriffics Desire
Amazon.com



Door Number 4: Nina Fiore Bridal Shoes
http://www.bellissimabridalshoes.com/



Door Number 5: Liz René Addison Bridal Shoes
http://www.bellissimabridalshoes.com/



Door Number 6: Blue Tux Nicole Bridal Shoes



Door Number 7: Touch-ups Amy Bridal Shoes



Door 8 Grace Aria Bridal Shoes



Door Number 9 Touch-Ups Peyton Bridal Shoes

Bush League

I was on a panel today that spoke to law students in Siouxland. There were seven attorneys on the panel. And about 20 law students showed up, out of 150-200. That is absolutely unacceptable. The dean apologized, saying they had "program fatigue." Yeah, well, I have life fatigue, but I hauled my ass 250 miles out there to give them young lawyer advice. He further explained they just had a program last week, as if to say that two one-hour programs two weeks in a row was a lot to ask of them. Yeah, you know what, I was at that one, too. And only about 40 students showed up to that one.

I also spoke to the lawyer liason for the mentor/mentee program between the state bar association and the Siouxland law school today. He asked if I'd had much contact with my mentee. I explained that I emailed, she emailed back, I emailed again, and that was it. He told me that seemed to be everyone's experience. HLC's mentee didn't even return her email. I, too, have heard that at least two other lawyers received no response at all.

I don't know what's wrong with these law students, but they have a serious problem if they think they can blow of members of the bar and still land great jobs. We have the smallest bar in the country. And they're at a tier 4 law school. The arrogance of the students at that place is astounding. It might be the only game in town, but that's not enough. They fail to understand that they are competing for a very limited number of jobs, all within a very connected network of firms, with people like me, HLC, and my co-worker, Haley, who all came back to the state after getting edumucated elsewhere. Haley went to Yale. HLC and I did not, but we went to better schools than the one in Siouxland.

To hear it from their side, we swooped in and took "their" jobs. This they bitch about, complaining that it's patently unfair because they've paid their dues by attending school in state. Um, I'm sorry. I spent 18 years in this shithole before I came back to get a job. So did HLC. So did Haley. And, Haley, HLC and I did not have the opportunity to network with, or clerk for, attorneys at the state's flagship firms during law school. We all came in cold, with nothing more than the strength of our resumes and a local hometown, long since abandoned, behind us. Yet, we took three of the most coveted jobs in the state. Actually, four, if you count two of my three jobs here. Not surprisingly, the Magic City job I just left behind is monumentally uncoveted.

They can't beat us on the education. But they should be able to beat us, hands down, on the networking side of things. And, let's be honest, the second is more important, in most cases. Yet, they still blow it off. I don't know what's going on up there, but it just doesn't seem good. They can't write, they don't know the law, and they have a grossly inflated image of their abilities and strengths. They can't even submit resumes that are free of typos.

It's entirely possible the brain drain has virtually stripped the state of an entire generation of legal talent. I don't notice it so much with the attorneys that have been practicing for 15+ years. Whether that's a product of experience or an indication of a decline in the quality of Siouxland's program, I can't say. I do know this, though. If we had a better law school, we'd have better lawyers. Once the talent is lured out by better educational opportunities, it's extremely difficult to draw them back in. I'm here due to an series of accidental missteps. It wasn't ever my plan to come back. Ever. But that's a different topic altogether.

I need to issue a disclaimer. I know I sound arrogant by writing this post. Admittedly, I am not F. Lee Bailey, for two reasons: (1) I am not nearly as talented as him, and (2) I have not been disbarred. However, I have gone head to head with many a Siouxland grad, and worked beside them, and I am confident that my law school education was of higher quality. Am I smarter? Maybe. But you can be the smartest person in the room and still be handicapped by your education. I have also worked with HLC and Haley, and it's also clear that their skills and abilities are much greater than those of Siouxland grads of similar vintage.

Dear Dean of Siouxland Law: For the love of god, please put some effort into creating a better law school. I get tired of practicing against ill-prepared, arrogant lawyers. I can't take another thirty years of this, especially when you consider the good lawyers will only be around for another 10-15 years. I'd rather enjoy having a worthy opponent almost every time instead of every once in awhile. And, as is obvious by reading this post, I could use some humility by being beaten by one every now and again, too.

Fender-Bender-Bender Status Report

Well, the muscle relaxers are ridiculous. I asked Dr. Bones if she'd perform an exam to evaluate my car accident issues before the needle attack. She obliged, and performed the same exam as last week (pre-accident). It's amazing how different it was than last week. I'm more f-ed up than I thought. She did some adjustments, and deduced that both my lowest vertebrae and public bone were out of place. It was a little weird to get undressed in a chiropractor's office, but.... OK, I'm only kidding.

My back pain has been pretty constant since the night of the accident. It's in my middle and lower back, radiating out into my entire back and up to my shoulder blades and tops of shoulders by the neck. It also hurts to sit, stand and walk. I have some abnormal ankle swelling (in my good ankle, and didn't even wear heels today.
I certainly will not be going to the gym anytime soon. Which sucks because I'll probably have to become bulimic to look sassy at HLC's wedding. As long as I keep getting percocet, I should have my wish come true.

I have to admit that I felt better once I walk ed out of Dr. Bone's office. However, that was fleeting since it hurts everywhere again. who knew?

Best part is that I get massages covered by insurance. I've been jonesing for a massage since Friday to help my back, but didn't want to pay for it.

OK, I'm a mess. that's the bottom line. I took a percocet and, instead of throwing up, I spewed words into my abandoned blog.

Carey

Sleepless in Seattle

I've decided it's time for desperate measures with regard to the insomnia, so I'm receiving acupuncture treatments with a chiropractor, Dr. Bones. It comes with a free tarot card reading and we burn incense while chanting and rubbing crystals over our faces.

My first visit was last week. Dr. Bones performed an all-over body exam to see if anything was out of whack. Aside from a pelvis that seemed out of place, and some minor tension in my shoulders and neck, I was relatively in place. Dr. Bones did a few adjustments and then moved on to the acupuncture. It's too soon to tell if it'll work; it may take 3-5 treatments before I start to notice.

My 2nd treatments was today. The needles are placed in the following places: outer wrist, inner wrist, index finger joint, shoulders, and stomach. Weird, and it hurt more today than yesterday. Perhaps related to the accident.

Dr. Bones made a preliminary diagnosis of adrenal fatigue syndrome. The symptons online are pretty compelling when I take a personal inventory. One of the factors is difficulty getting up in the morning, along with feeling tired between 9 and 10 p.m. but resisting going to sleep. Dry skin and a heart murmur are also factors, in addition to inability to lose weight and serious sugar cravings. It may includes other character flaws, including bossiness, impatience, spending sprees and animal hoarding. The problem is that it is difficult to treat - mostly involving changes in diet, sleeping from 10 p.m. to 9 a.m. (no shit, that's srongly recommended), no caffeine and eliminating all stress. Um, I can maybe do one of those things, but not all of them.

So, thinking perhaps I found the answer, I did some online research. Mayo Clinic does not believe adrenal fatigue syndrome actually exists as a medical condition. Well, that fucking figures. It's a more of holistic diagnosis, and I think it's probably similar to chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia as far as being medically accepted.

Regardless of whether I have an adrenal gland issue, I realized I need to start looking into the physical cause (word? physiology? Neuropathy?) of my ailments. I've been treating with a psychiatrist for about four years. Clearly, it's not just in my head. Dr. Bones will refer me to a real doctor who also practices in chinese medicine and may or may not believe in adrenal glad fatigue.

So, then I decided on my own to finally get a real doctor so, whenever I got to the clinic, I don't have to see the disappointed stare whenever I get that question. They certainly don't like "you guys" when you're at Urgent Care at 9 p.m. Anyway, I have a date with a family practitioner for the first time since high school. We meet in a month, and I hope she knows what she's doing and not blow me after deciding it's stress. Right. Stress. Despite being medicated to the point where you'd think I was on a soma holiday all day every day. Over the years, I've brought up the insomnia/can't get up/weight gain thing to other doctors, but they've just brushed me off as being anxious and stressed out (because I had an undiagnosed anxiety disorder - nice, huh?)

If the acupuncture treatments don't work, I'm headed off to an MD that also practices in traditional chinese medicine too, per Dr. Bones' suggestion.

And, finally, each hospital here has MD's that practice in sleep medicine. I plan to have at lest one sleep study done before year end, if not two. As you may recall, I had a sleep study done in Minot. Their conclusion: you do not have sleep apnea. Frankly, I'm just lucky they didn't accidentally kill me or steal a kidney while I was knocked out from the sleeping pill they made me take so they could figure out if I had sleep apnea. Still, it was quite strange waking up in a tub of ice with a telephone and a note instructing me to call 911.....

Rock Chalk Jayhawk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Woo-hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They won, they won, they won, they won, they won!

I came in 2nd in my office bracket pool, so I'm pocketing a cool $50! And, I came from the bottom 20% after the first round to win!

And, even better, I finally won my own bracket pool! I had 50 correct picks, and my South regional bracket remained flawless.

If I knew my bumper wasn't being replaced, I would put my jayhawk bumper sticker on it.

Damnit!

So, the night got even better. My naval officer showed up at the bar tonight, looking for me. The bar where I was supposed to watch the game. But didn't because my friends suck. Because they cancel on me when it's too late to contact every one I've invited to warn them that the plans have changed.

And, now I'm home in my pajamas. With whiplash. And a respiratory infection. In my pajamas. Bitter. So bitter.

Isn't April over yet?

OK, so it's been awhile. A long, long while. Not much has changed, really. I went to Florida. I survived. I hate Disney World. I talk to Sky every day. Yes, every day. And I enjoy it. The naval officer came back from Turkey, and we had our second date. It was perfectly enjoyable, although he's sailing off to Israel for George Bush knows how long, so it's a moot point.

I had my first trial. Opposing counsel/drinking buddy Jen is a complete bitch. I knew she was nasty in court before, but I thought she'd at least play by the rules. Nope. She tried to fuck me by failing to honor a gentleman's agreement and introducing a settlement agreement into the Court (which is inadmissible all by itself but, combined with her word, should have left it unmentioned in front of the judge). She then lied to the judge about the status of the law during closing arguments after she knew I wasn't allowed to present further argument.

However, despite her underhandedness, I came away with a huge win. Full custody AND spousal support. So, for once, good triumphed over evil.

Which brings me to the last few days.

Thursday.
1. I found out I won my trial on Thursday.

2. I drove five hours to Siouxland for the State Dem Convention and a firm-sponsored law lecture at the local law school.

3. I was driving while I was on the phone with my secretary, who is in serious need of a brain transplant, and, in venting my frustration, I unknowingly pushed down on the accelerator. And drove past a highway patrolman. I was cited for traveling 92 mph in a 75 mph zone. The ticket is only $85. However, I got 5 points (limit is twelve) on my driver's license. I could have probably mowed down a baker's dozen of kindergartners in a school crosswalk right before their christmas pageant and received less points.

4. I was driving through campus at Not Harvard University, trying to find a parking spot for the law lecture. I came to a dead stop behind a perfectly nice chevy cavalier while students were crossing the street. And, then I was struck from behind by a perfectly nice pontiac grand prix. Which shoved me into the cavalier. The jeep fared well (although I'm sure there's still $2k worth of damage), but the cars both looked like accordions in their respective impact zones. The grand prix driver admitted he wasn't watching, the police came, he got cited, and we went on our merry way. I actually have the imprint of the grand prix's grill, pontiac arrowhead emblem included, stamped into my bumper. I am positive the guy who rammed into me, and rammed me into the cavalier, received less points for his transgression than me.

5. I attended the law lecture and got a parking ticket.

6. I went to ER to get checked out and was given percocet for my burgeoning back injuries.

7. The percocet made me throw up.

Friday

1. I drove to Derby (2.5 hours away from Siouxland) to visit with a client at the jail.

2. I'm pretty sure I was high from the percocet for half of my drive.

3. The meeting was an hour longer than expected, so I was late getting back to Siouxland for the State Dem Convention.

4. I stopped by the Convention Center to get my registration before I went back to the hotel to make myself beautiful for Barack and Hillary. I had a little less than 1.5 hours to get the registration, get ready, and get back for a $100 fundraiser (prepaid, of course) for Barack. He was going to appear in person at the fundraiser. My registration was lost and, in addition to being belittled for not signing up in time (six weeks in advance, although they all thought I became a delegate at the last minute so I could sit closer to Barack), I had to spend almost an hour straightening out the mess. Then, as I was about to leave, we noticed my banquet ticket (also prepaid) wasn't there. They were out. Despite the fact that mine was already paid for and assigned to me. Yup, out. I'm getting my $30 back; I don't care if it's a political donation.

5. I missed the $100 Barack fundraiser.

6. The rest of the night was awesome; I was within about 10 feet of both Barack and Hillary.

7. I threw up from the percocet.

Saturday

1. I woke up with the plague. Coughing so hard my abs still hurt. Or is that from the car accident? Can't tell. I spent the day sleeping in mine and Tiki's hotel room and I missed the convention. And the banquet, but that was already a given.

2. I watched KU stomp North Carolina in my hotel room with my sister, Jenny.

3. I did not throw up from the percocet.

Sunday

1. Tiki decided not to go to the convention, so I skipped out on it, too. I did not cast one ballot, despite my designation as a delegate for my district.

2. Tiki and I treacherously caravaned through the state's east coast in a snowstorm, traveling 35 mph at times. We safely made the 250 mile trip home.

3. I made it home, picked up the dog and played with the cats.

4. I took some percocet and tried to go to sleep.

5. I did not throw up from the percocet.

6. I did not sleep from the percocet.

Monday
1. I was still awake from Sunday, so I actually billed three hours from 2 a.m. to 6 a.m.

2. I finally fell asleep at 7 a.m.

3. I went to work at 11:30 a.m.

4. I tried to play catchup at work and planned to go to a sports bar to watch KU's first championship game appearance since I was in law school.

5. My friends, unbeknownst to me, cancelled our plans to watch the KU game, inviting me over to watch it at home.

6. I declined. I would rather watch it by myself than listen to Richard yell at the TV in his thick north dakota accent.

7. I went to the doctor re: my whiplash and my plague. I have a viral upper respiratory infection. And whiplash. So he gave me muscle relaxers and cough syrup with codeine.

8. The muscle relaxers don't work.

9. KU is up by three points right now.

So, to some it up: Go Jayhawks! And fuck April.