practice makes perfect

I took an LSAT practice test last night. It went all right. I wasn't really that nervous. Unfortunately, most of the sections I'd seen before in another practice test I took. But I'm less nervous. I just have to remember to read carefully and take my time. And not freak out. As I was coming home on the metro last night (the test was in Maryland, near Bethesda), I had to ride the orange line home with a large group of high school-age kids. It must have been a class trip. There were so many of them. They were so obnoxious. I don't ever remember acting that way. I'm sure I never did.

It's sad for me to think that I have only five more work days left. I've got plenty to do in that time, lots of stats to catch up on. I can't wait to go home to my own room and my own bed. And a much quieter atmosphere. Kellie sent out the final email regarding end-of-semester things. I think I might be the last one to check out on Sunday. That's ok with me; I can make sure the apartment's clean.

I can't wait until Saturday is over. After that, I won't have to think about or study for the LSAT ever again.

it was a zero-fatality holiday

Our Thanksgiving meal went off very well. Everything was tasty. It was... educational... to cook the turkey all by myself. (ps- why do they have to stick the neck inside the body cavity? It just seems wrong.) My parents and I have been decorating for Christmas and trying to make the house look presentable so we can sell it. This entails something my mother calls "staging." Today they moved the computer desk and filing cabinets from the family room to my dad's old train room, so it looks like an office. They brought my bedroom furniture back to make it look like a bedroom (or else I would have had to sleep on an air mattress).

Yesterday, my dad and I went to Ashtabula for his birthday present from me. I got him tickets on a holiday train. For those unfamiliar with Ohio geography, Ashtabula County is home to nothing. I've realized since being back here how country Ohio is. It's primarily agriculture. I never noticed until I'd been submerged in urbania for a few months. Anyway, the train ride was... interesting. I felt a little out of place, since most of the patrons were kids under 8 and their parents. The train rode out to a small field where Santa and Mrs. Clause were waiting. They got on the train and handed out little gifts to all the kids. Well, my dad enjoyed it, and that's all that matters.

My super-secret mission went off without a hitch. Last night, after my dad and I got back, I drove home to surprise Lisa. She had no idea. It was fabulous. I got to spend a day with her doing nothing spectacular, just being home with her, like any normal day. It was fantastic.

My mother is currently making rice crispie treats. I don't remember the last time she did that. In fact, I don't remember her ever doing that. Everything's weird on this trip. When did I get so old?

sometimes I just sit and watch my rabbit. for a while.

My father's attempting to figure out what's wrong with my computer. Poor thing. I think it's dead. It's already four years old. It won't even turn on anymore. We'll have to take it to Circuit City for techno-tinkering. I'd just like to be able to extract all of my files from it. I can go without a computer for awhile, but I have stuff on there from my entire high school and college career.

I'm in Ohio again. This time I get to sleep in my own bed, in my room. It's going to be the last Thanksgiving here. My mother took me to see the hole where the foundation's been poured for our (well, their) new house. Friday will be the last time I help decorate the house for Christmas.

I think this holiday is going to be good. I'm working on a little bit of a plan that I can't divulge yet, but I think it's going to be really really good. (Really good.) To be honest, I'm just tickled that I'm out of that apartment. They're nice most times, but I needed a break from my roommates, and a week in the country, I mean Ohio, is sure to do the trick. When I get back I'll only have 12 days until my parents come pick me up.

I'll miss going to work. Yesterday, I went in for a few hours to work on a few days' worth of stats so I don't have so much piled up when I go back to work next week. It'll feel strange at first, going to classes instead of walking to the metro, being crushed to death while listening to my iPod. I'll miss the city. It's really a fantastic place. Ugh. Now I'm making myself sad.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope everything goes smoothly on Thursday. I'm cooking this year, to give my mother a break. I'm sure it'll turn out all right. But if it doesn't, the Cleveland Clinic is good, right?

"Good evening, Clarice..."

Today was one of the best days at work I've had in a long time. I was busy all day. I didn't even finish all of my work. In fact, I'm going to have to go in on Monday to finish, even though I was considering taking it off to do some serious packing, organizing and homework (because Tuesday I go to Ohio, and directly when I come back, I've got a paper due). I felt satisfied today.

I started off in Motley's courtroom. He had a heavy criminal calendar again, for some reason. (Maybe he was helping out another judge?) It was a sentencing hearing. The defendant had been convicted of assault with intent to kill, assault with a deadly weapon, and carrying a deadly weapon. It was interesting to hear the government and the defense making abbreviated versions of their cases. Apparently, the defendant had gotten into a fight at a club, had pulled out a double sided knife and sliced 6 people. Motley sentenced him to almost 8 years. It was sad to hear the defendant speak; he was a good guy, he had an 11 year old daughter, it was one night full of mistakes, etc. I felt bad for him. But then, he had also taken the stand and denied stabbing anyone, despite the overwhelming evidence against him. I ran a file across the street for Janese, then came back to court to listen some more. Before I left for lunch, a marshall wheeled in a defendant for the next case. She was in a wheelchair, strapped in. Despite the only similarity being the wheeled apparatus, it made me think of Hannibal Lecter, when he was being transported from prison, wearing the mask, strapped in like a live mummy. What a character he was.

Anyway, then I went to lunch at ABP, and happened to run into my section. After that it was back to the courthouse to pull some files from Probate and some other stuff for Janese. Then I went across the street to the office to put together a case history for Janese. I tried to fit in some work on the other cases I was working on. I didn't get to stats today, which is what I'll have to do on Monday, so I can be caught up before I leave. I'm going to have a bunch to do when I get back, but it won't be so bad if I work Monday, besides the fact that I have to do more follow up on my other cases. I was so happy to be running around like a crazy person, trying to get 27 things done at once. It reminded me of working at switchboard during the day. I like the busyness. I think I work better under pressure. At least then I can concentrate better on the task at hand. I have an unrelenting tendency to daydream when I don't have enough to do.

The commute home was the most sardine-like I have ever experienced here. When I got to Metro Center to transfer to the orange/blue line, there were a lot (I mean, a lot a lot) of people on the platform. I waited a train, so as not to be as crammed. Then at GWU, the stop before mine, a bunch of people from Eastern Europe, it sounded like, got onto the train, pushing their way on, as many as possible. There was some definite bubble-invasion. I didn't mind so much, though, surprisingly. I came home and checked the mail. Then I cleaned up. I was suddenly energized, despite my long day at the office. I did my nails and watched "Braveheart." (That movie makes me cry still, though I own it, have seen it countless times to the point where I've got it nearly memorized. Wallace's screaming "Freedom!" is a guarantee to elicit tears from me.) I really should get to bed, though. I have to wake up at 6:30 tomorrow so I can go to Ft. Belvoir to finish my community service hours. Then I hope to catch one of the "8 Films to Die For" this weekend. I heart horror movies.

don't you think the Hebrew is a bit much?

My days at work have a rhythm now. I go to the courthouse, watch court until 11, 11:30. Then I go upstairs and do some filing. I eat lunch there, or go out with my attorneys, or go across the street to eat. And then I work at the office until I leave. My workspace at the office is a desk with a partition around it low enough for a counter. The counter area, and the centralized location of my desk, and the fact that I'm right next to the printer leads a lot of people to believe that I'm a secretary. It's a little frustrating when people come up to me and ask me where an office is. I don't know. In fact, my AAGs' offices are a couple doors down. The offices I am nearest belong to the Tax Section, I think. Or something. They're definitely corporate-type lawyers. They deal with contracts. There is a woman whose office is across from my desk. Unfortunately for me, and for anyone who's ever met her, her voice is one that is such a frequency, as to raise one's hackles. And she's a Loud Talker. (Though, luckily not a Close Talker.) I surmise that she's Jewish, given her name, and how she, while speaking on her cell phone, will lapse into speaking Hebrew in the middle of the conversation. That part is actually kind of cool. I wish I were fluent enough in another language to be able to have a conversation in either language. But other than that aspect, she has a tendency to grate on my nerves.

The trip to the State Department was anti-climactic. We were herded about, and then down to the basement where we sat in an airless room in uncomfortable chairs for a half hour while we waited for our speaker. When she finally came, she spoke about terrorism and counterterrorism. I was hoping for some new insights, or a glimmer of hope that soon things would get better, and we could get rid of the Alien and Sedition Act... oh, I mean the Patriot Act. She fed us the party line. During Q & A time, one of the program students asked her about the future of our relations with Iran. He's in my Allies and Adversaries class, and we have a paper coming up in which we have to indicate in a memo-type format, a sort of risk assessment for the U.S. in 2025. As soon as he said that he was asking for a class assignment, a little State Department lackey immediately spoke up and "reminded" us all that anything that was said was to remain in house and was strictly off the record. Poor kid. He didn't have a tape recorder on him or anything, not even a pencil in his hand. These government types are so jumpy.

Speaking of government, I have come to an unsettling conclusion that I may end up working for the government. Not only that, but working for the Executive Branch, horror of horrors. I think I want to work for the Department of Justice. There's all sorts of offices in there. I can prosecute traffickers, child pornographers, federal capital cases. I'm not quite sure why the federal level appeals to me so much. Maybe I'm more in love with this city than I realize. I mean, I wouldn't mind coming back here to work a summer while I'm in law school. Or coming here to work after I graduate. Huh. Maybe I should apply to one of the schools here, just in case.

By the way, tomorrow (the 17th) is my Daddy's birthday. So, if you see him, tease him about the fact that he's 53. Happy Birthday, Daddy!

the choices in life

It's still nice out, but the weather is supposed to get worse this weekend. Someday it'll be fall in DC. Probably when I leave. In December. Yesterday morning, I sat in court. There was a surprising amount of drug cases. Well, incidental drug cases. There was one gentleman who was having a status hearing for his probation sentence as the result of his DVM (the criminal side of what we do). He'd missed some dates for drug testing and had tested positive for methamphetamines and cocaine. The meth, he explained as the Adderall he was taking for a multitude of psychological problems (which he was good enough to list). The cocaine was "only that one time, I don't even like cocaine." He was desperate because he was trying to deal with the fact that he had HIV. As I sat in the courtroom, listening to this guy expound on all of the problems of his life, and why they really weren't his fault, I found I didn't feel badly for him at all. Yes, it really sucks to have HIV. But look at his behavior. It sucks that he has to live with such horrible consequences, but that's the path he chose.

After court I went upstairs to the Intake Center and did some filing. A woman who was trying to file a motion came in to use the phone. She looked a little harried, holding her baby and trying to talk, so we volunteered to take the baby off her hands. She was so cute! She didn't cry at all, just kept looking around, taking everything in. Her silence was a nice respite from the majority of other children who are brought into the center. We have kid-friendly stuff in the waiting room, but it never fails that every few days there's a screamer. After lunch, I went back across the street to do some work on the cases I'm helping on. I'm amazed at how much I've changed, professionally. I used to be apprehensive about making cold calls, and even sometimes talking on the phone at all. But now it doesn't bother me. During a lull in activity, I was online, looking at tips for writing my personal statement for law school. I got inspired and just cranked it out. I even stayed until almost 5 to finish it, so I could do it in one sitting. I think it's really good, possibly the best draft I've written yet. I'm starting to feel a lot better about the application process. I'm not as nervous about the LSAT. I'm still shooting to get into Cornell, but I'm confident I'll get into a law school in Chicago.

Today, our field trip is a briefing at the State Department. I expect it to be some doom and gloom about terrorism, and the end is nigh. But we'll see. Maybe it'll be interesting.

where everybody knows your name

I actually had work to do today. I feel so accomplished. In the morning, I watched court in Motley's courtroom. For some reason, I enjoy it more there. Maybe because he's very dramatic at times. Some of my attorneys had cases in there. Even though it sounds juvenile, I like sitting in the courtroom with the other women, wearing my DC government ID. It makes me feel like I'm actually an attorney, like, if I wanted, I could stand up and argue a case. Except that I don't think it would work. I think there's some type of rule against non-bar members passing as lawyers. After watching court for a while, I went upstairs to the Intake Center and did a little filing. Then I decided to go across the street to the office, because I knew that I'd probably have work to do on the Intervention case I've been working on.

I ate lunch there while checking my email and surfing for Christmas presents. Then I did some faxing, made some calls, went back to the courthouse to file something in Probate court. I'm amazed at how much of my job is "investigative." When I say "investigative" I really mean things like, calling a phone company and trying to find someone who can come testify at trial about cell phone technology. Or calling an electric company and trying to elicit a name to whom I should address the subpoena for records. Fun things like this comprise a lot of my work on actual cases.

On a random note, people in DC are not necessarily courteous. Two times today, I was leaving my apartment and walking to the elevator down the hall. Two times, there was another person waiting for an elevator who saw me, obviously intending to go somewhere and walking toward the elevator. Two times, the elevator arrived, the people stepped in, and the doors closed when I was at least 10 feet away. I don't understand it. When I hold doors open, sometimes people are surprised that I would do such a thing. Maybe it's that big-city mentality, where people feel it's every man for himself. In that respect, I miss the small town feel of home, like the Cheers theme song.

what would the world be like

On November 23, the movie Bobby will go into wide release. At its showing at the Venice Film Festival, it received a seven-minute standing ovation, according to Wikipedia. I know people laud JFK as a great man, a great leader, etc. But I wonder what would have happened if Sirhan Sirhan hadn't assassinated Robert Kennedy. Would he have won the presidential election? How would he have changed the world? He had so much promise. Would we have stayed in Vietnam so long? Maybe our lives would be at a political polar opposite.

I realize that wondering all of this isn't doing much good. Bobby Kennedy was gunned down in 1968. I'm waiting to see another candidate with as much potential rise up. I hope I don't have to wait too long.

having nothing to do with anything

I didn't have to work today. So I worked on practicing for the LSAT. (157 so far. That's about 10 points below the lowest it should be. That really sucks.) To help my mind recuperate before I kill it some more tomorrow with more practicing, I'm watching my comfort show, America's Next Top Model, cycle 1. They go to Paris. Actually, this show was the main catalyst for why I went to Paris over spring break. So, I thought, why not, when I have a lack of things to share about DC, share some things about the beautiful city of Paris?

la Place de la Concorde: This was the first metro stop I went to from my hostel. Right down the street from the monument is the Jardin de Tuileries, which I walked through, and next to that is the Louvre, where I met Abdel.

l'Arc de Triomphe: My second night in the city (I was busy the first night), I saw the Madeleine (the church that Monet painted), the Champs-Elysses, and the Arch of Triumph, from where JFK's eternal flame idea was taken.

le Louvre: The famous art gallery that was used as the royal palace many, many years ago. This was the third day, Monday. Sunday, Abdel and I saw Montmartre, with the Sacre Coeur church, the Moulin Rouge club, and a spectacular view of the city.

Bridge over the Seine: Part of Paris is actually an island, the Isle-de-la-Cite. The river Seine divides the city into the West Bank and the East Bank. The West Bank is home to the Quartier Latin and the college-aged population, and that's what we went to see. That's Abdel, by the way. I know I look ridiculous, but I didn't realize how silly I looked until later. Oh well.

la Cathedral de la Notre Dame: I think the Sacre Coeur is more beautiful than this one, but it's gorgeous, too. Still Monday, the last full day I was in the city.

le Tour Eifel: Taken from the Trocadero Plaza, Monday night. I didn't go up because it was so windy and so cold. It was pretty and monstrous at the same time.

Paris was so wonderful. Sometimes I get struck by an impulse to go back, even when I'm here. But I gave my parents enough of a heart attack the first time I went. And with law school right around the corner, I don't think it'd necessarily be the best use of my money. But I recommend Paris to anyone. Though I don't know a lot of the language, I did passably well, and got better while I was there. I've got great memories of Paris.

Paris est ou ma coeur est.

B.F. Pinkerton!

Scott and I went to see "Madama Butterfly" at the Kennedy Center. Oh, it was wonderful. The last opera I saw was "Camille/La Traviata" (which wasn't a fully opera, but was magnificent nonetheless) with Lisa and Heidi. We were pretty high up, but we could still see most of it. And we could definitely hear it.

We came into the Kennedy Center through the Hall of States, a large cavernous entryway with the flags of the 50 states hanging from the ceiling. We picked up our tickets at Will Call and ventured into the Opera House. It seemed like it was open to the rest of the building, because the stairs into the House open up to the rest of the Center. We walked up three flights of stairs to reach the second tier. We got our Playbills and took our seats. We were on the left side of the stage, quite high up, but I didn't mind. Finally the lights dimmed and the conductor came out. By the way, it was Placido Domingo. Scott had been very excited about this (he had to tell me that Domingo was one of the Three Tenors; I only remembered Pavarotti.). Then the show started. The translation for the Italian was projected on a screen above the stage, so it was like watching a live foreign film. One of the things I love about foreign media is that, even though something inevitably gets lost in the translation, the language is different, richer. There aren't any slang or colloquialisms.

If you are unfamiliar with the plot of "Madama Butterfly," I will enlighten you. The play "M. Butterfly" and the musical "Miss Saigon" are based on the story. There are three acts in the opera. During the first one, an American officer, Pinkerton, is in Japan at the turn of the 20th century and marries a young geisha named Butterfly. To her, this marriage is everything; she converts to Christianity for him, and because of this and her marriage to an American, her family disowns her. Unfortunately, for Pinkerton, the marriage is something to help while the time away until he has to leave, which he does, though promising Butterfly he'll come back to her. The second act happens three years later. Pinkerton still hasn't returned, but he's sent a letter to his friend, Sharpless, asking Sharpless to break the news to Butterfly that Pinkerton has married an American woman, and considers his marriage to Butterfly null and void. When Sharpless tries to tell Butterfly, she becomes excited, thinking that Pinkerton is at last coming back, and shows Sharpless her son, the blond-haired, blue-eyed product of her marriage. When an American ship docks in the harbor, Butterfly realizes it's Pinkerton's ship, and she stays up all night with her son, waiting for Pinkerton to come home. The third act picks up the next morning; Pinkerton still hasn't come. Butterfly goes to lay down for a little while, and Pinkerton comes by, with his new wife, Kate. He's heard of his son, and sends Kate to collect the child from Butterfly; they'll take the boy in and raise him as their own. Pinkerton says he's too filled with remorse to see Butterfly. So Kate goes to see her, and tells her what she wants. Butterfly is shocked, but tells Kate to come back in a half hour to get the boy. Then she says good-bye to her son and kills herself.

It's obviously a tragedy. At first, I was really pissed off at Pinkerton. He's the stereotypical American, only out for what he can get, not caring about others' feelings in the matter. But then as the story progressed, I realized I was more upset at Butterfly, especially at the end. I wanted her to fight. Why should she give up everything for Pinkerton, even her son? She lost her entire identity in him, and he wasn't even remotely that dedicated to her. But the show was just fantastic, splendidly done.

This morning, Lori called me out on the balconey where she was having her morning cigarette. "I just wanted someone else to see this," she said. There was a marching band playing "Grand Old Flag" in the park by the Iwo Jima. At 8:00 in the morning. I love this city.

a walk through the autumn trees

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

"The Road Not Taken"
Robert Frost

good times.

Tonight was the best night I've had in a while.

I didn't do much yesterday. Lori and I spent a lot of it on the couch, because Steven and Jason were here. Scott came over. We watched "The Exorcism of Emily Rose." I remembered the time I saw it in the theatre, at Lake, with D. There was a huge horde of junior high age children in the front of the theatre and they were making so much extraneous noise, about halfway through the movie, the projector stopped, the lights came up and a couple of OP cops walked down the aisle and escorted the front quarter of the room out. The rest of us all clapped, and the second half of the movie was a lot quieter. I took a shower. I felt restless, not having anything really to do. I got a craving for Panera. So I went to Ballston, a few metro stops away. I brought my food home with me and cleaned up a little before eating. After watching a few SVU episodes, I went to bed and read for a while (I'm about halfway through The Order of the Phoenix. Unfortunately, at this rate I should finish it long before I go home for Thanksgiving, where I left The Half-Blood Prince. Very frustrating.) and then fell asleep.

This afternoon again, I didn't do much. Watched Saw II. I think it might be my favorite one, especially as traps go, but I enjoy all the character development in III. Then Scott, Lori, Tiffany and I went to the store. We were originally going to go grocery shopping at this new grocery store in Alexandria, but there were several stores in the complex. We stopped at Old Navy first. I got a few shirts. Then to the grocery store. It was packed with people, since it was the weekend of the "grand opening" and whatnot. I must have waited in line for check-out a half hour. It was crazy. Then we came home. We had to make two separate trips from the car. Scott had gotten his turkey for Thanksgiving; he's cooking here for his parents and Alyssa's family. It was 18lbs. That's a big bird. Then we made dinner. Now Scott's watching as Lori and Tiffany do pilates before "Desperate Housewives" comes on.

I'm not quite sure why it was such a good night. We didn't do anything really spectacular. But it actually felt like we were friends, like we'd known each other for a while, instead of having been thrown together two months ago. Cramped in the back of Tiffany's two-door, it reminded me of being inside Mel (Lisa's car.)

Actually, it reminded me of a time in the second semester of my freshman year. It was before I started dating Truby, I think in February. I went to the Jewel (or maybe it was Cub. Now I can't remember.) with Lisa and Donna. It was the first real time I felt a bond deepening with those two. And then a few months later, I was living with them. (Oh the fun that first summer was, without barely any furniture in that apartment.)

Good times.

I'm actually doing real work now

The Islamic Center on Wednesday was beautiful. In the mosque there were ornate Oriental rugs, and stained glass windows, and the walls were covered with rows of Arabic script. It almost rivaled the Notre Dame (which isn't as good as Sacre Coeur). The field trip part was less remarkable. We entered the mosque, aftering taking off our shoes, and sat in a big group off to the side. A few men came in and out, doing afternoon prayer. There was a shrine on the east wall, pointing to Mecca. One of the members of the mosque came out and said,"Does anyone have any questions?" I was hoping he'd give some explanation about the religious practices. Some of the questions asked were reasonable. But a few people asked questions like, "how can you treat women so horribly?", or to that effect. I don't necessarily agree with keeping men and women separate during worship, or women having to keep themselves completely covered, but if that's was Muslims believe, ok. I'm sure they find it hard to agree with our assertion that Jesus Christ was the Son of God and took away all of our sins by His death on the cross. People are different. Wednesday night we had Allies and Adversaries class to make up for the Prof.'s missing last Thursday. We got our first papers back. She gave a little speech before giving them back, about how she was appalled by how many people's papers had horrible grammar, comma usage, normative language. I started to get a little worried, but I'm not ashamed to say she gave me an A-. She circled my use of "eye-to-eye," especially since I used it twice. After class, there were a lot of complaints about how hard she'd graded. Personally, I think effective use of a thesaurus is necessary for academic writing. I'm rather anal about not reusing a word or phrase, so I don't mind that she called me on it. Despite her large workload and high expectations, I sort of like her. (Although, depending on the grade I receive for the semester, that could change, but hopefully not.)

Yesterday, Janese told me that Stephanie, the admin. assistant at the OAG office had resigned. So it looks like I might be doing some of the work she used to do. I cleaned out her area yesterday, and the section filing cabinet. It kind of reminded of cleaning out my office when I first started working for Joan in Purchasing. Now the desk and area is nice and pretty, just the way I like it. However, my arms are killing me, from lugging pounds and pounds of paper to the recycling box. There were still records of intake sheets from 1998. We don't need those. And now I'm working on doing the statitistics for the intake center, well, actually both of them. In addition to the center at the courthouse, we have one in SE. It's rather tedious work, but at least I feel productive.

And now it's the weekend, and I get to go home in an hour and half. Tiffany's and Alyssa's boyfriends Steven and Jason, respectively, are at the apartment this weekend. Steven I've met before, but Jason I haven't. Maybe the apartment will be emptier this weekend and I'll be able to catch up on studying for the LSAT. That's in a month. I'm only a little nervous. Just a tiny bit.