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Saturday, March 31, 2007

No more kvetching


Check it: I'm not wearing socks!! Hurrah!

It's the last month of school (possibly forever ever), so in celebration and protest, I welcomed a vintage nanny cape, a pair of $3 thrift sale Bally old lady pumps, and an awesome Casio Rapman to the family (high-five TBW, who ravages Value Village like no other!). Now if only I could find a job that allows me to combine all these things...

Sunlight and modern consumption (the non-tuberculosis kind) are not only making everything twice as nice, they're also making me do crazy things, like work on my fitness (including wheezing and clutching my back exercises), and hallucinate about having already finished papers which, in reality, I haven't even started. Oh Saturday nights, you so crazy.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Let's stay together



Sigh. Graduation. Time to get dressed up and group-sway to Vitamin C. Prom night turned out to be a dressy version of Awesome, with some heavy flask action, running away from the Edge, Mariah, and circling the dance floor like a vulture. Awwwwww law school. When the semester ends and we all go to our respective jobs or unemployment, I'm definitely going to miss the drunk dancing, midnight canning, MSN marathons, and Candida's lemon loaf slices.

Relive all the glamour of prom here.

And I know there are more pictures out there! Especiall of Cowl! Send them to me! I WANT THEM ALL! (2 points for unnecessary fanatacism).

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Always be prepared

WARNING: Rambly and anxious with a tendency to catastrophize.



As the world knows by now, I don't really want to be a lawyer. And with graduation fast-ish approaching, the question of articling keeps coming up time and again and again and again. There are no more buffer years to protect me from thinking about it anymore: am I going to be a lawyer? Well, I don't want to be. Even for a little bit? No, not really. There's lots of talk about just getting articling over it and being called to the bar and getting to say I'm a lawyer, not just a former law student. That all makes fine and dandy sense. I probably should. I need to pay off the debt, and get out of this house, and if anything, it'll strengthen my character or something (I figure a year of misery will at least do that).

And then I go to a Tuesday night lecture hosted by Chuck Klosterman at the newly-seated, nicely-designed-postered Norm Theatre. And he talks about how he got his first job, and his second job, and how he wrote his book. And he's funny and opinionated and seems genuinely excited and interested in what he does and how he does it.

I manage to fall asleep convincing myself that my life doesn't end with articling and that I, too, can be Chuck Klosterman
after I article. I've got time. I've got tiiiiiiiiiiiiime, right?

And then TBW points me to the Editor's Letter of this month's Dwell magazine (that is some good periodical ish), where he describes how the now Editor-in-Chief was unemployed, then applied to a job on craiglist for an "editorial assitant for a design and architecture magazine", and how every moment of the last 6 years at Dwell have been awesome and interesting and life-changing and growing. How working at Dwell wasn't just a job, it was
the job, the dream job.

Well yay you people who chose the right profession and have succeeded. Yay you and bully for me. Basically, it all seems to boil down to luck and circumstances and timing. And preparation. As it turns out, I've spent the last 3 years knowingly preparing myself for something I don't want to do. So now what? Switch to something new or play the wilful blindness card and persist for a little while? Give law another chance? That is the question, and has been the question for the last three years. Except now, I really need to answer it. Sort of. Or at least temporarily answer it. Fick.

PS. I want this table by Olivier Droillard real bad:

Monday, March 05, 2007

Monday really IS funday!

OF ALL TIME!!

That's my second mention on his page!!
Yaaaaaaaahh!!!