chemaccino good, but not good for you

Saturday, July 31, 2004
I'm moving.
see also: #16

Tuesday, July 27, 2004
RingRingRingRing RingRingRing BananaRealEstateClass
I spent the first 10 minutes (or was it 10 hours? ten days?) of Real Estate class this morning with the damned tune bopping around in my head. Kinda like this guy.
Let's talk about boop-ee-doop-ee-doop the Settlement Statement. boop-ee-doop-ee-doop...

I think the first link is from Fark and the second from MeFi, but uh, ...I'm not sure of anything anymore.

Thursday, July 22, 2004
I shouldn't be proud of this
I just scored 13 out of 14 on this quiz, Dog Toy or Marital Aid.
To be fair, I only scored an 8 on the difficult, but come ON, those pictures are deceiving.
thanks to teahouseblossom for the link.

Monday, July 19, 2004
Ms Nomer
I'm not really an admin whore right now, since I'm not selling myself out by the hour for my administrative services. And I am continuing on a progressively more-home-less-work track here, as expected. I don't know what it all means, but I thought I'd mention that YES I know I'm not a work blog right now, and NO I don't know if I'll ever be able to be one again. Depends on my next gig. Until then, this will just have to be one of those
single girl takes on NYC
law student
new mom
married suburbanite
political issue analysis
tough chick and her pals
...uh, I don't fit into any of the current popular blog genres. But maybe I can find a blog ring for people who have single-bolted toilet seats. We could call it Swivel Action.

Oh, and I have to stop the What I Won't Miss series about the apartment because poor Beau, last night he asked me all plaintively, Is there anything about this apartment that you like? and he had this sad look that was sadder for his not actually trying to look sad, and I had to tell him about how great these high ceilings are and how beautiful the city looks through the big windows late at night. Which is all true, and I even left out the part about the bugs that are also out late at night, sometimes, in the bathroom.

Sunday, July 18, 2004
Mid-Term Evals
It's officially the half-way point. Two classes completed, three to go, and only three more weeks of classes. How's it going? How's it going? Just read my blog, people.
The woman with the sick one-year-old had to drop out of the program. She also is dealing with a divorce; apparently, this is very time-consuming.
Smug Superior Court Expert is much quieter in class now. I like her much better for it. Hey, we're all going to struggle though this heinous Estate Tax Return together.
The PYT undergrad girls are regressing to high-school behavior; when people ask questions in class, the girls start with the eye-rolling and the sighing. Get over yourselves, you little bitches. The rest of us have learned to be our own advocates, and we don't care what you think of us.
The Corporations attorney-instructor has never taught before, and it shows. He doesn't know how to make points clearly, and when he starts to lose track of his point he Just STarts SPEAking LOUDER. I suspect that he's using this as a resume-builder towards teaching at a law school, because he tends to make lots of asides regarding law school. Dude. DUDE! We don't care.
The Corporations paralegal-instructor is very clear, engaging, and interested in helping us as paralegals. She's one of the best instructors in the program. And I thought so BEFORE she brought us candy.
The Real Estate Team is ok. The homework seemed easy, but the directions are confusing. Rather, the written directions are clear, but then the paralegal-instructor told one student on the phone to do it a different way, and now we are all confused.
Probate I should be doing my Probate homework right now. I should be doing my Probate homework all the time. I should be doing my Probate homework every waking minute.
Moving Oh, we're still moving. In theory. You wouldn't know it to look around, since nothing's packed. It will be interesting to see how Beau deals with this on Moving Day, August 2nd.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004
She's Come Unstrung
Last night, during a guitar-practicing study-break, one of the strings broke. The little one on the end. I don't know what it's called; I've only just started learning the instrument, okay? Beau is giving me lessons. It's great - it's a perfect constructive break from my reading and/or from the computer screen. But now he's going to have to get a new string, and that means the End Of Learning The Guitar.
Why? you ask?
Well, let's just say his tennis racquet frame has been hollow for over two years, so I'm not very optimistic about the restringing timeframe, based on precedent.

Tuesday, July 13, 2004
#2 Danger Perch
What I won't miss

You people, with your multiple bolts holding the toilet seat in place. You sit there so very securely. I bet you never have to check to see that the seat is centered over the bowl. I bet you never consider the toilet seat as a precarious perch to be treated with the utmost care and caution. I bet you don't spend all your time and effort wondering whether you're sliding, or if it's just in your mind.
Where is the danger? Where is the fear? Where is the swivel action that sneaks up on you, bumps you off to the side, makes you scream, and almost makes you fall off the pot completely?
Where is the constant dread in your life?

Monday, July 12, 2004
Why grouse? Why not?
This Litigation final exam paper thing is totally kicking my ass. And Probate assignments are riding hard on its tail. It's not that the work is particularly hard, it's that it's extremely time-intensive and requires a level of focus and attention that I have serious trouble conjuring for myself.
I give myself too many breaks and I make too many excuses.
Hell, I got nothing more important in my life than these classes right now.
Does that sound nice to you? Because it's pretty goddamn depressing to me.
I can't help but think of all the lovely things people have going on in their lives as their Most Important Thing In Their Life, and it's all more important, more pressing, more interesting than this program I'm struggling to devote myself to for one more month. It's hard for me to put on blinders and try to talk myself into caring about this non-degree certificate of completion.
People are getting married! having babies! buying real estate! getting advanced degrees! investing! making movies! saving money! accepting job offers! writing books! planning their futures!
Well. I guess it's better than my parents' basement.

#84 Fourth-floor Walkup
What I won't miss

I got 84 steps, to make it to my baby's door
I got 84 steps, to make it to my baby's door
And if you count the front stoop
I can find about two or three more

with apologies and a link to Marc Cohn

Friday, July 09, 2004
#5 That light at that intersection
What I won't miss

There are many intricate and confusing intersections around here, and for the most part, I'm pretty impressed with the traffic architecture that keeps people from constantly crashing their cars into one another. But there is this one light that is particularly confusing. You know how a regular traffic signal box has three lights, and only one is lit at a time. Red, yellow, green. Sometimes, there will be more than three, in cases where you might have arrows. So, it's not suprising or odd that this particular lightbox has 5 lights. What IS odd is that sometimes THREE of them are lit at once. Honestly.
What do you do at a lightbox with all of this:
Solid Red
Blinking Yellow
Green Right Arrow
Oh, sure I know slow to a stop, check for traffic, and make my right turn, but I live in constant fear of the many tourists and baseball fans who most likely freak the hell out.

#0 Preface: The beginning of the series
What I won't miss

It's not that I hate being here, it's just that there are so many things that are incredibly annoying about living in a really urban area. Many people who live in urban areas are less annoyed by these things, because they are offset by the many conveniences urban living confers. But I don't give a shit about those conveniences - I'm just as happy to drive to go get stuff, and I'd rather not have to walk a mile to get to my car.

I'm very very excited about moving to our new place. It's in a nearby suburb (like my last place, back in the day, any day that was before November) and even though we could park right on the street without a problem, we have space in the driveway. Who's ever heard of such a thing?! It's an embarrassment of riches.

Anyway, so my days here are numbered, and I'm so glad. This series will tell you why. The numbers are not assigned in a particular sequence, but rather by what number is best for that item.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Bad Night
I was going to post again about how much is sucks to park around here when there is a game, but then it took a full HOUR to drive into the vicinity of the apartment from Target (3 mi away), and an extra 45 min to find parking, which I got, but over a mile from the apartment.
Once home, the evening was topped off with my first, and most likely final, extremely infomative experience with Gas-Ex.
At least we've signed a lease and I know I won't have to put up with this parking bullshit much longer.

Friday, July 02, 2004
My Big Confession
I really, honestly always thought that there were just a lot of judges with the first two initials JJ. It never occurred to me that that would indicate anything other than their own names.
It did seem odd, though...

Thursday, July 01, 2004
What's so funny about Probate class
It's not a question; I'm actually going to tell you right now what's so funny about Probate class. It helps to know that every course is taught by an instruction team of a lawyer and a paralegal.
The Lawyer-Instructor
As we filed into our seats in the ten minutes before class started, he arrived, and quietly wrote his name and contact info on the front of the board. The best way to start you imagining what this (wills and real estate) lawyer looks like is to have you try to imagine an undertaker's brother. (Not a Six Feet Under undertaker, but a more stereotypical one.) This fellow was a thin, past-middle-age, balding, hunched-over, quiet man with BIG eyeglasses.
Absolutely exactly the kind of person you would expect to have teach you about wills. And if that's not funny enough for you, he's actually pretty animated and engaging as an instructor, which I'll admit was a bit of a shock. But also funny. His teaching style is a little scattered, but we were doing OK with it until the paralegal arrived and took over the teaching portion.
The Paralegal-Instructor
I'll be honest, my first impression of this woman was that she is one doughy dyke. I mean, it's very rare for women who are not butch lesbians to dress like butch lesbians, so I was taken aback when, half-way through class, she mentioned her husband. I had just figured she had a wife. That's what I get for working with so many lesbians these past few years.
Oh, so what's so funny about her, besides that short-short haircut that looks like she took a nap on her side while the gel set? She gave us her background info, which went a little something like this, and I paraphrase,
"I have a BA from Harvard, and I took this same course you are all in, and now I'm working at a real estate company as a paralegal. You know, that's just the way life goes..."
And we're all like, did you just intimate that being a paralegal is beneath your Harvard-ass dignity? Are you making apologies for how a woman of Fayah Hahvahd could fall so low?
But also it was funny because I'm pretty sure it intimidated Ms.Freshly-Minted-(non-Harvard)-BA.
Also funny is that she's not a good teacher.
Or maybe she is usually, but today was not her day.
The Class Itself
She kept throwing tons of concepts at us, and would get huffy when someone would ask her to repeat what she said, or please slow down, or could you speak louder? We can't hear you over the air conditioner.
For each of these pleas and requests from us students, she would get a bit huffy in responding to the request, then continue to plow through the material in her too-fast-for-note-taking speed, letting the ends of her sentences drift off. She would also jump around the material, occasionally peppering her remarks with "this will be important to know for the final project". It was Just So Awful. I mean, what were we supposed to do? Just let her plow forward? When it was clear we had to understand all of what she was saying, and next class we'd move on?
Trust me on this: You do NOT want to try to learn the probate process by reading your state's published Probate Manual. I haven't read all 50 manuals (DEAR GOD! THE HORROR!), but I'm guessing they are all terribly dull and very difficult for a layperson (such as a paralegal student) to read.