It is kinda a humid, stuffy day today in my office. It is, in fact, my last day here. After two years clerking for the Public Defender I have to say goodbye. I'm having a bit of trouble with it, to be honest. I will certainly miss the people, the work, the atmosphere... This job has been an unexpected gift from God. And it sucks to walk away from it.
So here's where I am at: I graduated law school magna cum laude. My adoption article was published by our law journal earlier this month. There was a TON of drama this year at law school (one very good reason I wasn't writing). I also wasn't writing because I largely didn't feel I needed to. I had enough outlets around for my occasional venting. Writing seems a bit more necessary now.
It looks like I am going to be working for the Wisconsin Public Defender, which is fantastic. Our office here had its funding cut, so there was no job potential here (we kinda knew that was going to be the outcome), so it is super nice that I have this job offer keeping me sane. On the downside I won't know where I will be living until about October, once bar results are announced. So until then I am studying for the Wisconsin bar, staying put here while many of my friends move away, and then figuring out what to do with the months of August and September (I have already applied to a local grocery store for a position re-stocking shelves... Im also thinking of standing next to the road begging with a sign that reads: "Graduated with Honors from Law School - Can't get a job").
Its kinda funny, because the ONLY thing I have to get done today is a rather simple memo that I am really just putting off. I may try to get it done over the weekend. I just am not quite mentally ready to be done.
Personally I am at a bit of an awkward point as well. On the one hand I want to grab at every opportunity with my various friend groups to spend as much quality time with everyone as possible. On the other hand I have this deep desire to hole-up, divest from relationships and quietly slip away.
A large part of all of this is that I have WAY too much free time at the moment. I have been running at about 150% for the last three years: full time school with sometimes two other jobs, running the social apparatus for the school while on law journal and creating all sorts of problems for the school along the way. Now it's just me. No job. No school. No social structure. Just me. Wow. That's kinda a scary thought.
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
My First Smile of the Morning
Now that I'm back to my normal day job, I have to be at my desk at 7:30 in the morning. This normally means that I am up at 6:15, and don't have the most leisurely morning routine to get out of the door. This morning wake-up comes altogether too early, especially since I have not yet gotten into the habit of getting to bed early enough to provide me with my requisite 8 hours of rest (plus last night was hot and sticky, so I didn't sleep well). Anyway, I realized this morning that throughout my morning bus ride and walk to work, I have a fairly dour expression on my face. "Seriously, I have to do this again?" (And this is when I LOVE my job, I can only imagine how painful it would be if I hated it.)
But I also realized that there is always a moment of the day that gets me back to my cheery (who are we kidding) self.
Every morning when I walk in the door of the building I am greeted by (Juan). (Juan) is our custodian, and every morning when I walk in the door we greets me with a big ole smile. He's this cute little guy and he's always working his butt off. For a while last summer when he would see me he would dart over to push the handicap-button on the door so it would open for me. I would always laugh and thank him, but finally told him he really doesn't need to do that for me. He is perhaps the hardest working guy in our building and he certainly doesnt need to play doorman for me, the ... not hardest working guy in the building.
I can only presume that since (Juan) works for the government that he is legally in this country. He's very obviously first generation Mexican immigrant, and lives here with his wife and very young daughter (he loves showing pictures). They all go to English classes together.
I couldn't help but think of (Juan) and his family and their efforts to make a better life for themselves here when I heard a recap of Tom Tancredo's racist, xenophobic bullshit at the Republican primary debates. His idea of halting all immigration (legal and otherwise) until all current residents in the U.S. have been forced to assimilate to (white) American culture is pure bullshit. At the debate he actually said that immigrants must "cut ties" with their country of origin and even their families in those countries. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!! Since when has that been a requirement to be American? To my knowledge we still have St. Patrick's Day parades in just about every city in the United States.
Tancredo also specifically referenced his spite at phone lines that make users "Press 1 for English, 2 for Spanish..." This I totally don't understand. NO ONE IS MANDATING such phone options! What Tancredo is bitching about are U.S. companies who have seen a market for goods and services and are trying to fill that market as best as possible. What's more American than capitalism? What Tancredo, and many like him including my grandparents, fear is that the culture of America will (once again) change, through the efforts of those who live here.
I'm sorry, but the "I was here first" argument just doesn't hold water: otherwise we'd all be speaking Navajo/Algonquian/Iroquoian.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Follow You Home" Nickelback,
All the Right Reasons
But I also realized that there is always a moment of the day that gets me back to my cheery (who are we kidding) self.
Every morning when I walk in the door of the building I am greeted by (Juan). (Juan) is our custodian, and every morning when I walk in the door we greets me with a big ole smile. He's this cute little guy and he's always working his butt off. For a while last summer when he would see me he would dart over to push the handicap-button on the door so it would open for me. I would always laugh and thank him, but finally told him he really doesn't need to do that for me. He is perhaps the hardest working guy in our building and he certainly doesnt need to play doorman for me, the ... not hardest working guy in the building.
I can only presume that since (Juan) works for the government that he is legally in this country. He's very obviously first generation Mexican immigrant, and lives here with his wife and very young daughter (he loves showing pictures). They all go to English classes together.
I couldn't help but think of (Juan) and his family and their efforts to make a better life for themselves here when I heard a recap of Tom Tancredo's racist, xenophobic bullshit at the Republican primary debates. His idea of halting all immigration (legal and otherwise) until all current residents in the U.S. have been forced to assimilate to (white) American culture is pure bullshit. At the debate he actually said that immigrants must "cut ties" with their country of origin and even their families in those countries. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!! Since when has that been a requirement to be American? To my knowledge we still have St. Patrick's Day parades in just about every city in the United States.
Tancredo also specifically referenced his spite at phone lines that make users "Press 1 for English, 2 for Spanish..." This I totally don't understand. NO ONE IS MANDATING such phone options! What Tancredo is bitching about are U.S. companies who have seen a market for goods and services and are trying to fill that market as best as possible. What's more American than capitalism? What Tancredo, and many like him including my grandparents, fear is that the culture of America will (once again) change, through the efforts of those who live here.
I'm sorry, but the "I was here first" argument just doesn't hold water: otherwise we'd all be speaking Navajo/Algonquian/Iroquoian.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Follow You Home" Nickelback,
All the Right Reasons
Monday, June 11, 2007
Good Damn Weekend
Well, the Guy has officially left. We got to spend one last glorious night together last week, fed by the passion we have developed together and the longing we knew that we will have as we part ways. Asi es la vida. In some ways it helped that we had that break-up a few weeks back, because I had already divested some from the relationship, but I'm certainly glad that we had gotten back together to spend what little time we had left together to truly remember how good we are together. Or were. Or will be. Who knows?
He left me with a little plastic ruler, which now sits at my desk reading "No one measures up to you." Ahhh.
The last week of work saw me wrap up my "top secret" project that I had been focusing on for a few weeks. It was controversial, heated, and I just tried my best (sometimes not so well) to stay above the fray. Well, my part has been played, now I just get to sit back and watch.
Friday night I went out with the folks from work. Predictably, we we ended up having too much fun, kinda crashing a Bachelor/Bachelorette party bus, obliterating a few styrofoam coolers along the way when we all fell cascade-style on top of them when the bus braked suddenly. Good times. Took my mind off the stress of the week, for sure.
Saturday I started training to bartend at Karma. They started training me at about 11pm, and had me out the door by midnight. Sound a little abrupt? It was. The thing was that the guy training me asked, "Do I need to train you to mix drinks?"
"No, I've been bartending since I was 18."
"Well, do I need to show you how this computer system works?"
"No, I used the exact same system at my last bar."
"Hmmm... well, let's just let you go at it then."
So, I bartended for about an hour, getting filled in on the particulars of the bar and the way things work there, and then the guy decided I was good to go. So then I meandered my way down to the Saloon, met a couple of friends there for a few drinks, then made it an early night home.
Yesterday went for a glorious brunch with my Roomie and her friend. Great brunch at Campiellos. Then literally laid around and napped away much of the day. Wow. That's a nice way to spend a weekend. It just felt incredible to not have any major work hanging around my neck.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Open Your Eyes" Snow Patrol,
Eyes Open
He left me with a little plastic ruler, which now sits at my desk reading "No one measures up to you." Ahhh.
The last week of work saw me wrap up my "top secret" project that I had been focusing on for a few weeks. It was controversial, heated, and I just tried my best (sometimes not so well) to stay above the fray. Well, my part has been played, now I just get to sit back and watch.
Friday night I went out with the folks from work. Predictably, we we ended up having too much fun, kinda crashing a Bachelor/Bachelorette party bus, obliterating a few styrofoam coolers along the way when we all fell cascade-style on top of them when the bus braked suddenly. Good times. Took my mind off the stress of the week, for sure.
Saturday I started training to bartend at Karma. They started training me at about 11pm, and had me out the door by midnight. Sound a little abrupt? It was. The thing was that the guy training me asked, "Do I need to train you to mix drinks?"
"No, I've been bartending since I was 18."
"Well, do I need to show you how this computer system works?"
"No, I used the exact same system at my last bar."
"Hmmm... well, let's just let you go at it then."
So, I bartended for about an hour, getting filled in on the particulars of the bar and the way things work there, and then the guy decided I was good to go. So then I meandered my way down to the Saloon, met a couple of friends there for a few drinks, then made it an early night home.
Yesterday went for a glorious brunch with my Roomie and her friend. Great brunch at Campiellos. Then literally laid around and napped away much of the day. Wow. That's a nice way to spend a weekend. It just felt incredible to not have any major work hanging around my neck.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Open Your Eyes" Snow Patrol,
Eyes Open
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Back to the Grind
I am (perhaps depressingly) excited to be back at my desk at work. I love my job.
I came back to a stack of work about 8" high, which is actually kinda fun to jump into (Lest there be doubts that I am needed at my job). I got a last-minute research request yesterday for a team that was in trial and needed an answer by the end of the day. Sweet. I love that sort of stuff (I need to get my head examined). Many of the issues I've got sitting on my desk are basic legal questions, that make me feel really smart for knowing the quick answers to them: "Can I bring up the character of the victim in a self-defense case?" "Can premeditation be formed within seconds or minutes, or does it need more time to develop?" "What sort of constructive possession is needed to convict a person of possession of an illegal substance?"
I am still putting off studying for my Jurisprudence exam. It is just a depressing prospect to have to look forward to. I didn't learn a damn thing all semester, mostly because it is a useless subject with zero application to either my professional life or even passing the bar exam. I have about two days to learn some 1000 years of legal theory. Ehh... No problem. (Fuck me!... Aunt Helen! - name the movie).
Beyond that, I tried calling the Guy last night to make one more attempt at reviving the relationship. All I can say is that at least I tried. He seems more intent on staying hurt and upset, which is his prerogative. Not the way I live my life. So, time to move on.
I went to a high-end salon yesterday to get my stomach waxed. My dear friends, stomach hair has plagued me from my youth and has always bothered me, perhaps more than it should. I even tried the laser treatments for awhile. I have a party this weekend that will likely involve me removing my shirt, and especially now that I am now single, it is rather important that I not be a woolly beast. But the reason I bring this up now is this: I had a 5:30 appointment, for which I showed up at 5:35. The waxing took no more than 15 minutes, and I didn't even get any touch-up tweezing. And I got charged $45.
When I graduate, I will have gone through 7 years of education and hold a graduate degree. And yet, even then, (admittedly because of personal philanthropic choices) my time will still not be worth $45 an hour. Let alone $45 for a half-hour. Wow. Maybe I'll just go back to cutting my own hair. Can anyone else see a tragic self-inflicted waxing accident in my future?
Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Same" Snow Patrol,
Final Straw
I came back to a stack of work about 8" high, which is actually kinda fun to jump into (Lest there be doubts that I am needed at my job). I got a last-minute research request yesterday for a team that was in trial and needed an answer by the end of the day. Sweet. I love that sort of stuff (I need to get my head examined). Many of the issues I've got sitting on my desk are basic legal questions, that make me feel really smart for knowing the quick answers to them: "Can I bring up the character of the victim in a self-defense case?" "Can premeditation be formed within seconds or minutes, or does it need more time to develop?" "What sort of constructive possession is needed to convict a person of possession of an illegal substance?"
I am still putting off studying for my Jurisprudence exam. It is just a depressing prospect to have to look forward to. I didn't learn a damn thing all semester, mostly because it is a useless subject with zero application to either my professional life or even passing the bar exam. I have about two days to learn some 1000 years of legal theory. Ehh... No problem. (Fuck me!... Aunt Helen! - name the movie).
Beyond that, I tried calling the Guy last night to make one more attempt at reviving the relationship. All I can say is that at least I tried. He seems more intent on staying hurt and upset, which is his prerogative. Not the way I live my life. So, time to move on.
I went to a high-end salon yesterday to get my stomach waxed. My dear friends, stomach hair has plagued me from my youth and has always bothered me, perhaps more than it should. I even tried the laser treatments for awhile. I have a party this weekend that will likely involve me removing my shirt, and especially now that I am now single, it is rather important that I not be a woolly beast. But the reason I bring this up now is this: I had a 5:30 appointment, for which I showed up at 5:35. The waxing took no more than 15 minutes, and I didn't even get any touch-up tweezing. And I got charged $45.
When I graduate, I will have gone through 7 years of education and hold a graduate degree. And yet, even then, (admittedly because of personal philanthropic choices) my time will still not be worth $45 an hour. Let alone $45 for a half-hour. Wow. Maybe I'll just go back to cutting my own hair. Can anyone else see a tragic self-inflicted waxing accident in my future?
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Same" Snow Patrol,
Final Straw
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Guilty
I got my first jury verdict yesterday. I had been working on this case for about three and a half months, and earlier in the day was extremely excited to see the work conclude and ship the file off of my desk. That was, of course, before I realized just what that would mean for our client.
This was a first degree murder trial, which means that when the jury found our client guilty, the client I had sat behind for two weeks, that he gets a mandatory life sentence. They spent just four hours deliberating how this 24 year old man gets to spend the rest of his life.
Setting aside the fact that the prosecutor pulled some dirty-ass stunts on the last day of trial, and that there are some serious "sufficiency of the evidence" issues to take to the Court of Appeals, I just have trouble looking at this guy, who was allegedly the get-away-driver in the shooting, and seeing that he could have no potential value to our community. I know more about this guy's gang history than almost anyone else on the planet, and I know that it isnt pretty. But I can honestly say that I think he is fundamentally a good guy. A good guy that has just fucked up. A lot.
I was asked to sit in on the "exit interview" with the client after the verdict was read. We went back to the holding area and just sat there for what felt like forever. What the fuck does someone say to a guy who has just had his adult life sentenced to a cell, with no hope of parole til he's in his 60s? To not get to participate in his child's life? He was betrayed by friends on the stand who we KNOW were lying to get a deal from the prosecutor. No eye-witness could put him at the scene. And it took four hours to convict. We just sat there swearing to ourselves under our breathe. When it was all over we got up and both gave the guy a sincere hug. A very sincere hug. It was all we could do.
Someone asked me later if this makes me more or less inclined to work in criminal defense. I dont even have to think about it. More. How can I walk away feeling like the system doesnt need more people standing up for defendants when I see it as so fundamentally broken that we throw people away for the rest of their lives?
I went home and exercised as many coping methods as I could (besides the obvious: drinking, which I tried to stay away from). I worked out until my body was wracked with pain. I crumpled, sobbing, in the shower. I cooked for a couple hours, binging along the way on anything I could get my hands on. Then fell asleep watching Elf, trying to think of better things. It worked to some extent.
I wish that there was a happy ending to this one. But I do work in the criminal justice system. Usually not happy beginings and few happy endings.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Crawling in the Dark" Hoobastank,
Hoobastank
This was a first degree murder trial, which means that when the jury found our client guilty, the client I had sat behind for two weeks, that he gets a mandatory life sentence. They spent just four hours deliberating how this 24 year old man gets to spend the rest of his life.
Setting aside the fact that the prosecutor pulled some dirty-ass stunts on the last day of trial, and that there are some serious "sufficiency of the evidence" issues to take to the Court of Appeals, I just have trouble looking at this guy, who was allegedly the get-away-driver in the shooting, and seeing that he could have no potential value to our community. I know more about this guy's gang history than almost anyone else on the planet, and I know that it isnt pretty. But I can honestly say that I think he is fundamentally a good guy. A good guy that has just fucked up. A lot.
I was asked to sit in on the "exit interview" with the client after the verdict was read. We went back to the holding area and just sat there for what felt like forever. What the fuck does someone say to a guy who has just had his adult life sentenced to a cell, with no hope of parole til he's in his 60s? To not get to participate in his child's life? He was betrayed by friends on the stand who we KNOW were lying to get a deal from the prosecutor. No eye-witness could put him at the scene. And it took four hours to convict. We just sat there swearing to ourselves under our breathe. When it was all over we got up and both gave the guy a sincere hug. A very sincere hug. It was all we could do.
Someone asked me later if this makes me more or less inclined to work in criminal defense. I dont even have to think about it. More. How can I walk away feeling like the system doesnt need more people standing up for defendants when I see it as so fundamentally broken that we throw people away for the rest of their lives?
I went home and exercised as many coping methods as I could (besides the obvious: drinking, which I tried to stay away from). I worked out until my body was wracked with pain. I crumpled, sobbing, in the shower. I cooked for a couple hours, binging along the way on anything I could get my hands on. Then fell asleep watching Elf, trying to think of better things. It worked to some extent.
I wish that there was a happy ending to this one. But I do work in the criminal justice system. Usually not happy beginings and few happy endings.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Crawling in the Dark" Hoobastank,
Hoobastank
Sunday, November 05, 2006
500-some Criminal Defense Attorneys went into the Woods...
Nope. Not the start of a joke. A start of my weekend.
My office went on a huge ass retreat/conference this weekend with all of our sister offices from around the state. It was amazing, fun, and very stimulating. It was nice to be around that many intelligent, liberal individuals. There's just something about people who will go through 7 years of education and then take a 50% pay cut to work for the poor. Partied like crazy, and just got away from all the crap that had been stressing me out all week. Granted, I will go back to being stressed out about it tomorrow again, but that's okay. I'll live.
I must pause to pat myself on the back a little bit though. A weekend of booze and professionals, and I managed to not make an ass of myself (regardless of campfire beer fights, pick-pocketing, shaking booty with my boss and firework fun). In fact, I am fairly sure I made a pretty good impression. The more I can strategically integrate myself into all aspects of my office, the better my chance that when it comes time to hire new attorneys they look at my file and say, "Well, we just can't let him go. He's awesome!" One can only hope.
Had some interesting reflections this weekend too. The 2nd would have been my mother's birthday. And the breaking of the whole Haggard scandal, and his background as a man who has made so many LGBT people feel austasized and excluded from Christ's love, well that pulls my mind back to a time when I was kicked out of a faith community in the name of Righteousness. That year I had to do a lot of growing. I learned my strengths and my friends. And that the two are not entirely seperate concepts.
I just watched a gay movie called "Dorian Blues." Not bad for a gay-flick. Toward the end it had a line, "They say a boy becomes a man the day his father dies...."
For me, I think it must have been my mother.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Winding Road" Bonnie Somerville,
Garden State
My office went on a huge ass retreat/conference this weekend with all of our sister offices from around the state. It was amazing, fun, and very stimulating. It was nice to be around that many intelligent, liberal individuals. There's just something about people who will go through 7 years of education and then take a 50% pay cut to work for the poor. Partied like crazy, and just got away from all the crap that had been stressing me out all week. Granted, I will go back to being stressed out about it tomorrow again, but that's okay. I'll live.
I must pause to pat myself on the back a little bit though. A weekend of booze and professionals, and I managed to not make an ass of myself (regardless of campfire beer fights, pick-pocketing, shaking booty with my boss and firework fun). In fact, I am fairly sure I made a pretty good impression. The more I can strategically integrate myself into all aspects of my office, the better my chance that when it comes time to hire new attorneys they look at my file and say, "Well, we just can't let him go. He's awesome!" One can only hope.
Had some interesting reflections this weekend too. The 2nd would have been my mother's birthday. And the breaking of the whole Haggard scandal, and his background as a man who has made so many LGBT people feel austasized and excluded from Christ's love, well that pulls my mind back to a time when I was kicked out of a faith community in the name of Righteousness. That year I had to do a lot of growing. I learned my strengths and my friends. And that the two are not entirely seperate concepts.
I just watched a gay movie called "Dorian Blues." Not bad for a gay-flick. Toward the end it had a line, "They say a boy becomes a man the day his father dies...."
For me, I think it must have been my mother.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Winding Road" Bonnie Somerville,
Garden State
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