Me: “I am applying to design and advertising firms. I might as well use a skill set that I actually have. The second I get hired I’m dropping out of school.” Judd: “Uh, no.” Matt: “Yeah, don’t do that.” Me: “But this degree is a waste of money.” Matt: “But you’re halfway done. You might as well finish it.” Judd: “Yeah, you’re already in debt.” Me: “That’s ridiculous. Just because I have student loans for a useless degree doesn’t mean I should pile on more debt!” Matt: “You are going to be paying it back over a long time even if you drop out.” Me: “So?” Matt: “So if you’re going to be paying back student loans for a long time either way, why spend years paying money for a degree that you do not have? That would be ridiculous.” Me: “Touché.”
Professor W: “What about gambling? Does anyone gamble? Who has ever gambled? Jill?” Jill: “Well, I bet on sports. It’s like drinking a beer while watching a game! If you have $5 riding on it then the most boring game becomes the most exciting thing you have ever seen in your life!” Professor W:”…maybe for you.” Jill: “And all the degenerates around me!”
(The context here is the appropriateness of alimony if one spouse gambled away the marital assets.)
I sucked it in like Mariah Carey at school today. I wore a snug shirt as a motivation to go to the gym. This is an old Dr. Phil trick based on the theory that discomfort is an incentive for change.
Most of us buy bigger clothes when we gain weight. We hang out with less athletic friends, pick up passive activities (that involve butter and booze), and do everything possible to be comfortable in our obesity.
With stores like Lane Bryant and Torrid it is possible for girls be fashionably fat, and it is far easier for guys to buy a bigger button-down and some Aldos to look presentable.
I am not one of those perpetually offended minorities. Being pissed and victimized all the time is exhausting and conflicts with my personal motto of “I have a good disposition.”
So I was more giggles than “oh no they didn’t” upon seeing this at the Quarry’s Rainbow Foods:
One of my undergraduate friends refused to buy her hair products at stores that had an “ethnic hair care” section. She thought the separation was offensive, especially since only black hair products were in the “ethnic” section.
I think my friend’s boycott was overdramatic, but I could imagine some similar racial-indignation arising out of Rainbow’s Hispanic food aisle. There is nothing wrong with grouping the Hispanic food together, but the inclusion of piñatas and religious candles is like putting the weave by the cracklins, and Buddha statutes by the curry.
What a busy, hilarious week. There is too much to write about, so I am settling for pictures and captions. This is choppy, but appropriate given the state of things…
This week featured a massive iced-tea spill at the office. Amber is cackling as I run to fetch napkins:
That day I took the long route to work from Judd’s house just to see the Cathedral of Saint Paul:
I spent the rest of Saturday at work so today I held myself hostage on campus until I finished my homework. I have never done so much tax law reading in my life. I started my epic study-day at the purple onion cafe:
I was so thrilled that “homeless guy who reads aloud to himself” didn’t bother me this time! I was good about avoiding eye contact and glaring at my tax book…
I also decided that if I donate to the law school I will require that my donation be used to give the law school an entrance like this:
Swank! The other side of campus gets all of nice buildings…
I take the dogs on walks around the nice-side of campus all the time. And no, I haven’t been successful yet in getting Judd to take the Rottweiler:
…maybe I should throw in some fava beans and a nice chianti…
One of the places I visited on the nice-side of campus was the Walter Library. Behold:
Sigh. The undergrads have all the nice facilities… I have never taken a picture of the law school library because you’d scream.
One of my undergraduate bosses told me that I should have attended graduation because it would have given me a sense of closure. Today I realized he was right. My 1L year felt like a continuation of college in some ways, but today I looked at the undergrads and thought, “Who are these awkward, smelly people and how the hell was I ever one of them?”
After I almost hawked her to a classmate at the Lake of the Isles, Gertrude said “Oh, wait, this is supposed to be a run? I’ll give you a run fool!” And she wore me out. I think it was part ‘earning her keep’ and partially revenge for me trying to pass her off on someone else.
But seriously, does anyone want a Rottweiler or a bullmastiff? They are making me batty…
Living in a brightly colored house would make directions easier: “I live in the blue house. No you don’t need an address. Trust me. You’ll know.”
Other favorite color combinations in my neighborhood include purple with blue trim, lime green, and hot pink. And yes, the neighborhood lawn-art is way worse than the paint jobs… Continue reading “The Blue House” »
There were vicious mini-dogs, creepers that went out of their way to talk to us, and a lot of awkward “why is the dog doing that?” moments. We survived with a lot of lysol, some silly string, and a taser.
There were also mansions. The Lake of the Isles is cluttered with them.
This is my favorite:
Bam! I know there are grander mansions directly on the lake, but this is my favorite. I will live here someday. I will wear a long, flowy bath robe and saunter out to the front steps to fetch the morning edition of the New York Times. The dogs are dead at this point, the bad-ass kids are away at boarding school and Juddson is off on business.
It is just me, my mansion, my coffee, and the lemurs…
The mansion straddles a hill slightly off the lake and is surrounded by dramatic old churches. Living directly on the lake seems inconvenient. The constant stream of cars, dogs, and gawkers is not worth the status boost. Then again, maybe my opinions will change when I’m fabulously wealthy and in need of a prestigious address… Continue reading “My future mansion” »
Well, maybe not that last part, (That is for this week!) but I have realized that this blog is one of the things that is wasting my time.
This blog is supposed to be a journal and a time saver. It is neither.
The point of this blog is to avoid those redundant “status of things” conversations with friends. What happened is that many of my readers added me on facebook and gchat and I now have the “status of things” conversations with more people than ever.
I have two big dogs and live in the ghetto. We get it. What else is going on?
Well,
The boyfriend – we are like preteens with more sighing and cackling (and less talk of Trace Cyrus.) Jeff mocks us by saying: “You’re the best, no you’re the best!” but we inform him that we don’t do that much talking.
School – What is there to say? I feel ridiculous for paying all this money for a generalist education. I thought that was what undergrad was for. Sure, I love corporate tax law, but corporate tax law is not going to pay the rent next summer when I graduate.
Career goals? Well, this summer I am still working at Thomson Reuters. I love working in Eagan and hopefully I can find a position at West or Findlaw when I graduate. Thomson Reuters is a relaxed and hilarious place to work, although I should probably buy some stock in Caribou coffee to recoup some of my smoothie costs…
The backup plan? This summer I am beefing up my design portfolio, learning flash, and applying to design/advertising firms. Part of the reason why I did not go to art school is because I have been designing since 6th grade.
I also thought law school was the more practical choice, but the tuition is paid and I’m not going to beat myself up over it. I figure that if I can navigate the tax code then I can navigate new design software, and I’ll be fine…or at least the most educated barista you know.
I was leaving my apartment building this morning when I saw a man run across the street. He clutched a soda and started shouting at me:
Sodaman: “Hey, can you hold the door for me?” Me: “Uh, sure. Sodaman: “Thanks. I live in apartment #45…just don’t want the police to come and…” Me: “Oh, so you’re my new downstairs neighbor! Well, I apologize for my dogs in advance. They might bark…” Sodaman: “Oh don’t worry. We are all natives so things are about to get crazy! Just knock on the door and tell them Reed sent you. Oh, and if it’s an old drunk guy just take him into the hallway. Don’t be scared…” Me: “Oh, I’m from Miami – trust.” Sodaman: “I got you. I just got back from Washington…”
