Sometimes you’re the bug.

I couldn’t help it.  I had to pay homage to Knittikins’ post title from earlier in the week.  And more than that, today–this whole week, really–I truly am the bug.  Splat.

The annoying part is that I knew this week was going to be crazy.  And yet, leading up to this terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad week, I could do nothing but stand there, look into the eye of the storm and watch it hit me.  And, I suppose, drink some anticipatory margaritas. 

The week can be summed up nicely by an email I received from a client today.  And, mind you, a rather longstanding, good client of the firm.  It said (I’m paraphrasing): “It’s been quite a long time since I heard from you after you got back from your vacation.  You were going to check with the court and I have heard nothing.  Summer’s over.  What’s going on?” 

Oh, and to put the icing on the cake, he not-so-subtly cc’d the partner on the case.

In any other circumstance, I would be quaking in my boots thinking that I’m going to get fired.  I am saved, I think (?) by the facts that 1) I got a really great review a mere 2 weeks ago and 2) I did indeed check with the court and then wrote the clerk a letter, cc’d to the client (who apparently hadn’t gotten it yet). 

Still, I should have been in better contact with the client, so if he’s pissed at me it’s my fault.  And being the sensitive person that I am, I will likely lay awake tonight ruminating over that email and what I should have done.  And so it goes….

On the bright side, if I do get fired, that will be an excellent excuse to go find a really fun, low-stress job.  Any ideas?

Okay, that is entirely enough kvetching for one evening, though it does feel nice to blow off some steam.  Whhhheeeeeeew (the sound of steam releasing.  Or is that a whistling sound?)

To end on a happier note, here are some things I am excited about:

1)  I am getting my apartment cleaned tomorrow!  Yes, I know, how snobby of me.  But it’s been a really long time, and believe me, it needs it.  Noodles sheds EVERYWHERE.  (It has nothing to do with me being messy — who, moi?)

2)  I get some pool time with Knittikins and the sisters on Saturday.  Ahhh…I feel relaxed just thinking about it.

3)  On Sunday I’m going to LACMA to see the exhibit on Latin American art.  Should be cool (the Spanish major nerd in me comes out), and I confess that despite living in LA for 5 years and in Claremont for 4, I have never been to LACMA.  I know, I know.  Well, that ends now.

4)  It’s a three day weekend!  Even though I will likely work one of the days….still, that leaves two whole, perfectly good days to relax.  and….

5)  the Emmys are coming up in a couple of weeks.  You know what that means.  I get to bust out the celebrity stalker in me (I might tone it down this year though) and, if I feel like splurging, I get to buy a new dress.

One of these days I’m going to tell you, dear readers, all about the amazing pro bono case I’m working on…but tonight I just needed to be frivolous.  Thanks for reading.

Bd txts drv me crzy. :P

First, dear readers, an announcement.  Little Miss Law is officially on a mancation.  Yes, you heard me right.  A mancation, i.e. a vacation from men.  (My friend D. coined the phrase.)  Don’t worry, I am not turning into some kind of Bitter McBitterson man-hater…far from it.  But after my recent breakup, and considering that the recent relationship was fairly closely preceded by my two previous relationships, I decided that it was time to take a breath, step back from it all and focus on myself.  I think that sometimes jumping right into the dating pool again can, on the surface, seem to make getting over a relationship easier.  It’s a distraction, to be sure.  But more often than not, I think it just makes things worse — it’s easy to fall into the trap of projecting whatever mixed/hurt/intense feelings you have onto a new, undeserving person; it’s easy to try to rush things instead of letting them develop naturally; it’s easy to start comparing the new person to the old person.  I can envision any of these things happening, and so, mancation it is.  And so far, so good.  I can honestly say that I have no desire to date someone new right now, and focusing on myself is a really nice treat.

Of course, under Murphy’s Law, times in my life when I have actively tried to meet someone, it doesn’t happen…and so far, on my mancation, I seem to be attracting more attention than usual.  Go figure. 

On Saturday night, I went out to a bar with my girlfriends to celebrate my friend J.’s birthday.  (We started with happy hour at Cabo Cantina at 4 pm…it promised to be a long night.)  At some point in the night, J.’s friend came and brought a group of guys that he had been at a BBQ with.  One of them was tall, pretty cute, and wearing a very endearing pair of black-and-white checkered Vans.  We chatted for a while, and one or two cocktails later, he was heading out to another party, and told me that he wanted to take me out to dinner sometime.  I told him about my mancation, and I’m not sure if he didn’t get what I meant, or if he just thought it was funny, but he ignored my explanation and we exchanged numbers.  I thought to myself, well, mancation aside, it’s nice to remember that there are fish in the sea, blah blah blah.

Then later that night I received the following text message:

“i went to a frnds bdy pty.  But i wnt to g out w u son”

Oh.  My.  God.  Any slim chance that my mancation was going to end in the near future abruptly vanished.  Those of you who know me, know that I am sort of a spelling nazi.  (I did win the state spelling bee in 5th grade, after all.)  If I like someone, I will try to be flexible.  Spelling errors happen.  Typos happen.  But that text, my friends?  That was nothing short of a dealbreaker.  (On the plus side, much to my sheer amusement, I got to hear my friend JV exclaim “I want to go out with you SON!” for the rest of the night.)

I know what you’re going to say.  It was a text message.  Everyone abbreviates in text messages.  It was late.  He was probably drunk and tired.  Etc etc etc.

 Guess what?  I.  Don’t.  Care.  If he can’t even write a text message that contains full words (much less punctuation), what do you think his e-mails are going to look like?  His online chatting?  Call me crazy, but in this high tech world, where everyone e-mails, the thought of tolerating more than one such text message/email sends shivers down my spine.  Perhaps I was spoiled by my recent ex, quite the smarty pants, but sheesh.

To sum up:

1)  The mancation remains in effect.

2)  When the mancation ends, bd splrs nd nt aply.  Thx.

Nightswimming

First of all, let me share with you my absolute love for the song that inspired the title of this post.  (By R.E.M. for those who haven’t had the pleasure.)  My freshman year of college, my roommate made me a mix tape (yes, a mix TAPE) with a very random assortment of songs.  Nightswimming was one.  “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd was another.  I played that tape over and over and over in my car until one day, sometime in my senior year of college I think, the tape got caught on something and got dragged out of the cassette–after that, try as I might, it was never playable again.  But I thought of that song the other day and it brought back a lot of memories.  It’s peaceful and somehow haunting…please, go to iTunes and have a listen!

Anyway, this is relevant, I swear.  Last night was another perfect night that made me appreciate Los Angeles, and my life.  Tired from work though I was, I made my way over the hill to visit Knittikins at her BF’s house.  First, we went looking for, and found, a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant that she had found a good review of on Chowhound. What with the unappealing exterior, the plasticky old booths and the harsh lighting, it was wholly lacking in ambience, and I would never have ventured there on my own, but the food was good. We over-ordered preposterously, so we both have lots of leftovers for today.  Best of all, I got to have some much-needed girl time and catching up with Knittikins.

Next we returned to the house, which has become one of my favorite places to visit. They have a new electronic dartboard, and once we got the hang of it, it was a lot of fun. The dartboard even has a “trash-talking” feature, so as we played, we were continually mocked and insulted by the electronic voice. (My personal favorite comment was, “You are a disgrace to the sport of darts!” Listen here, Mr. Dartboard, calling darts a sport is a bit of a stretch.  Hmph.)

After the darts was, of course…the nightswimming.  They have a lovely pool and spa, and it was glorious to float around under the dark sky.  It was, I must say, the perfect way to end the week.  I came home and slept like a baby.

Overall, I have been feeling this incredible sense of peace and calm with the state of my life.  There is currently no drama, no angst…it is truly wonderful, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. 

The most exciting thing right now is that I am officially on the condo hunt!!  I met with the mortgage guy this week, and he filled me in on what I can afford, so now I can start shopping!  I am of course in no rush, but I am very excited to start going to open houses and see what’s out there.  I’ll keep you posted!

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse
Still, it’s so much clearer
I forgot my shirt at the water’s edge
The moon is low tonight

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night
I’m not sure all these people understand
It’s not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water
They cannot see me naked
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday

Nightswimming, remembering that night
September’s coming soon
I’m pining for the moon
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
Could not describe nightswimming

You, I thought I knew you
You, I cannot judge
You, I thought you knew me,
This one laughing quietly underneath my breath
Nightswimming

The photograph reflects,
Every streetlight a reminder
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night

Memory

Dear readers, I’m not feeling very bloggy tonight.  So instead of a true blog, a poem, by Miller Williams:

Memory

You can’t keep all of the past in a backpack or purse

all of the time.  It’s heavy, and what’s worse,

it wouldn’t leave room for much else,

what with drive-in movies, wooden motels,

a record player with needles, a touring car.

But what we were is much of what you are,

and what you are … believe me when I say

that what you are is going to wear away

little by little until, to your awful surprise,

you aren’t all there; you barely recognize

what’s left.  Go now and rummage back to find

some odds and ends that may have been consigned

to dusty boxes somewhere in the mind.

Put them together and make of them a book

with ragged, bone-white leaves and a leather look.

Use whatever is there–how it was to spend

a long while in silence with a friend,

to watch the trembling death of a dog, to look

with wonder on the ordinary, to like

the feel in the flesh of time passing, to be

your crowded selves with nothing more from me.

I can’t say what you’ll find for stuff and glue.

I don’t know what you’re made of.  I hope you do.

I Heart Bookstores.

Tonight I have felt the most peaceful that I had in a long time.  I came home from work and decided that I didn’t want to stay cooped up in the house, so I headed over to one of my favorite L.A. spots, The Grove.  Yes, it’s crowded (apparently it gets more visitors each year than Disneyland), yes, it’s touristy (I saw a gaggle of girls in “I Heart L.A.” T-shirts) but still, I find it somehow enchanting.  I thought I might do some late night shopping, but instead of heading for Banana Republic or Arden B, I beelined for Barnes & Noble and spent a good half hour walking around, perusing.

Call me crazy, but a bookstore is one of my favorite places to be.  Walking around in a bookstore to me almost rivals actually reading a good book, because of the delicious anticipation.  It’s like when you’re waiting in line at the ice cream parlor, thinking about what flavor you’re going to get.  You can’t quite taste it yet, but you know it’s going to be amazing.

Walking around in the bookstore tonight, I felt overwhelmed by the number of books that caught my eye — so many books, so little time!  I almost wished I could just bury myself under a big pile of books and let all the words seep into me through osmosis.

But in the end, I didn’t purchase anything.  After all, I already have a backup of books I have bought in the past couple of months and not yet read–most notably, Saving Fish from Drowning, which I have been eyeing in bookstores for about a year.  I think I may have to follow Knittikins’ lead and join the library.  For whatever reason, borrowing books just isn’t as satisfying to me as buying them, but my book habit may end up getting out of control!

After going to Barnes & Noble, I sat down on a bench and just people-watched.  It was the perfect temperature –not too hot, just a lovely warm late summer evening with the slightest breeze.  As I sat, I realized that I am learning to just be alone, and for that matter, just be, without having to try to appear busy with my cell phone or a book or anything.  If I can convince myself to eat out at a restaurant alone, now that will really be progress!

The Man of My Dreams

Oh, isn’t Little Miss Law a tease.  You thought that she was just going to open up and share all about her ideal guy or something to that effect. 

 Sorry to disappoint, but Wrong!  No, I’m writing about the novel I just finished with that title.  As often happens when I finish a book that I have been enjoying, I felt sort of sad and let down.  It’s as though you are spending time with a good friend, having a nice time when suddenly they get up and walk out the door, never to return again.  (Ok, yes, that was a bit melodramatic, even for me.) 

Anyway, the book had (SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!) an ending that one may describe as happy, though not in the stereotypical Hollywood, music swelling in the background type of way.  No, here the protagonist spends the whole novel coming of age (it spans from when she is a young teenager to when she is in her mid-late 20’s), learns about love and relationships, moves from Boston to Chicago to be with a guy she has a crush on who she has never dated, gets into a messy unrequited-love friendship with him, he ends up married to someone else, she moves to Albuquerque and gets a job as a teacher at a school for autistic teenagers.  The end.  Seriously, that was the end!

My semi-disappointment with this ending made me think of something that I often lose sight of.  Often I find myself thinking so hard about the future and waiting for something to “happen” that I realize there are lots of wonderful things happening in my life and all around me.  It’s way too easy to fall asleep in your life and just try to get through the day, and sometimes I forget that my life is happening right now. 

I loved this passage from the novel, after the protagonist has to try to get an autistic boy’s hand unstuck from some playground equipment:  “I was wearing a gray button-down shirt, and as Jason headed inside with the nurse, I noticed that Vaseline was smeared on it in several places, and I felt in that moment–you can see the Sandia Mountains from the school playground– that I was meant to live in the desert of New Mexico, meant to be a teacher with Vaseline on my blouse.”

How amazing to have that feeling of certainty, of just being, and to be aware that what you are, and what you are doing, is precisely what you are supposed to be, and what you are supposed to be doing.  We should all be so lucky.

I just can’t help but end this post with a quote from the final episode of Sex & the City:  “The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous.”

Well put.

Sorry, It’s Monday.

Dear readers, I hope you will indulge me in what promises to be a very random stream of consciousness; my brain is fried from working on an appeal brief almost all day.  (Don’t you worry, as exciting as enforcement of settlement agreements under CCP 664.6 is, I’ll spare you.)

First of all, let me just say that less than two weeks after my arrival back from Maui, all of the calm and zen that I developed there has officially dissipated.  I love L.A. (most of the time) and I enjoy my job (most of the time) but I don’t think anyone would use the words “serene,” “tranquil,” or “peaceful” to describe either one.  I have two souvenirs from Maui on my desk — a carved wooden turtle, and a beautiful color photograph of a swimming turtle (snorkeling with the turtles was the highlight of my trip), so I try to look at them and have moments of peace throughout my day, but that can be challenging. 

In an attempt to recapture that serenity, L.A./Little Miss Law style, I have had a good old fashioned evening of pure, unadulterated vegging.  Thai food takeout (yum); Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (somehow I managed to survive 27 years of life without trying this flavor, until my friend C. brought it over the other night — it’s heaven in a tiny carton); the new episode of The Hills (could I love girly angst any more?), reading more of a good new novel, and now reruns of Sex & the City while I blog (the episodes where they all go to L.A. — perfect).

Ok, back to my obsession with The Hills.  One of the fun things about the show is that they are always using stock footage of places in L.A. and hanging out at spots in Hollywood, and usually I know where they are.  Tonight Audrina and her pseudo boyfriend went for drinks at Charcoal, where I actually had dinner a few weeks ago.  I bet you didn’t know that I am so cool and hip!  🙂

But I think my favorite part of the show is analyzing the girls’ (usually disastrous) relationships.  This is the third season of the show, and I can honestly say that there have been no more than a couple of guys who seemed remotely decent.  It’s hard to tell whether they edit the episodes to make these dudes out as bad guys, or whether they are truly such big tools.  It’s like a train wreck–I just can’t look away.

As I was watching the show tonight, I found myself thinking, Why is she even putting up with this guy?  I would never do that!  Then it occurred to me: that is just not true.  I had to admit to myself that in my dating life, I have tolerated a lot of questionable behavior that, if I saw happening to a girlfriend or a TV character, I would have to restrain myself from shouting, “You’re an amazing girl!  What are you doing?  Just get out!” 

And the thing is, none of the guys I have dated are evil or malicious or jerks (I can see all my friends simultaneously shaking their heads in emphatic disagreement).  Confused, sure.  Clueless, maybe.  Un-ready to be in a real relationship?  Of course– aren’t we all at some point? 

I think that’s what makes it so hard to spot the signs, even when they are flashing neon right in front of you.  We all have our issues and our quirks.  You like (or God forbid love) the guy, he has all these great qualities, so you try to tell yourself that, even though things might not seem quite right, things will work out.  I do have a close friend whose  BF turned around his flaky (at the time we called it “asshole”) behavior and now is an uber-boyfriend, but still, I know this is the exception rather than the rule.  I’m also sure that I’ve dished out my fair share of questionable relationship behavior, so maybe the ups and downs are a form of relationship karma? 

On a final and totally unrelated note, I am reading a novel I really like right now — The Man of My Dreams.  No, it’s not a torrid romance novel with Fabio on the cover.  It’s a coming-of-age type novel by the author of Prep.  She has such a knack for writing socially awkward, late bloomer characters that it must be semi-autobiograpical.  At any rate, I really like her writing style, and I recommend it as a quick summer read.

That’s all for now.  Perhaps Tuesday will be more exciting!

Babies R Not Me.

I actually wrote a post with this title last time I went to a baby shower, but then I removed it because I thought it sounded too harsh.  But allow me to be honest…the fact remains that I’m just not such a fan of babies.  Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t hate babies.  I just am not as inspired to coo over them as many women I know, and I have never had the maternal instinct/biological clock thing going on.  So going to a baby shower always brings this feeling into sharp focus.

My adventure began at Pottery Barn Kids, where I rebelled against the registry (which was at Target) and went to buy a les practical but still coo-worthy gift.  I must admit that after my friend T. clued me in to the wonder that is Pottery Barn Kids when I attended my last baby shower a couple of months ago, I sort of fell in love with it and was oddly excited to visit again.  I must say, the gift I got was pretty frickin’ cute.  And as T. said, there are things in there that I would buy for my own place!  (Like some fun rugs.)  I also felt a little envious/disgusted watching parents buy their children desks and chairs that cost hundreds of dollars (seeing as how most of my furniture comes from Ikea and Craigs List.  I could upgrade but I know Noodles would just ruin it).

Anyway, I then went to help set up for the shower.  The mom-to-be is my friend D.’s sister; I know D. from law school and he was hosting the party at his fabulous condo.  (When a gay man is throwing a party, you know it’s going to be good.)  I felt somewhat more at ease with the baby shower notion because it was his first time hosting (and probably, attending) one.  Also, a couple of my other anti-baby friends were there so I didn’t feel so out of place.  At the same time, there were also the women with babies/children in tow (who inevitably crawled/ran around the apartment, threatening to wreak havoc and making D. rue the day he purchased that fabulous white couch).  Talk about my birth control for the day…yikes.

Which makes me wonder — when, if ever, will I cross the line from baby-phobic  to baby-crazy?  As a single woman, I currently consider it a blessing that my biological clock is not ticking, since I certainly don’t want to rush into something that isn’t right or be a single parent.  (One of the paralegals in my office is single and adopted a baby.  I can’t think of anything less tempting.)  At the same time, I wonder if it’s ever going to change.  Is it like a switch that flips on when you reach a certain age or life stage?  Or are some people just baby-prone and others aren’t?

On a totally unrelated topic, tonight my friend C. and I rented a DVD of the show Felicity.  We used to watch it religiously when we were in college together, and it is still so good.  I must say, I relate to it even more now than I did then.  I am thinking about getting Netflix and if I do, that is going on my queue for sure!

Putting the “Law” in Little Miss Law

First of all, dear readers, let me say…TGIF.  Not in recent memory have I felt so exhilarated to survive to the end of the week with the knowledge that I can actually sleep in tomorrow!  It’s been a long time — first there was Maui (where I slept like a baby but tended to wake up before 7 am when the sun shone through the window) then Vegas (where the blackout curtains can let you sleep forever, but when you go to bed at 4 am, you know you aren’t getting much sleep) then this insane week (where my workload and Noodles roused me out of bed at around 6 am every day).  Suffice it to say, I need a lazy morning.  In reality, I will probably get up early anyway, since my apartment is a disaster and I need to buy a gift for a baby shower I’m attending tomorrow, but I’m ignoring that for now….

Anyway, despite the title of my blog, I have realized that I write very little about the actual “law” aspect of my job.  Perhaps it’s because at the end of the day I want to get my mind off of it.  Perhaps it’s because I’m afraid I’ll put my non-lawyer readers to sleep.  But in any event, I thought I’d share with you a couple of new cases I’m working on.

In the first case, I really wish I could post the actual text of the complaint verbatim on here, it’s so absurd.  Since I shouldn’t, I will summarize it like this:  the plaintiff sued for severe emotional distress and a host of physical injuries (vomiting, back injuries, jetlag, etc) because he is tall and big and had to ride Coach on the airplane instead of business class.  No, I can’t make this up, folks.  And yes,  I represent the defendant.  What’s more, the plaintiff is a lawyer and he’s representing himself.   I believe that the maxim “the doctor who treats himself has a fool for a patient” applies equally well here: “The lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client.” 

Okay, it is a few hours later and I just got back from the movies and am going to crash, so the other tales of my new cases will have to wait.  I saw Becoming Jane, which I highly recommend for any Jane Austen lovers — definitely a bit slow at times, but otherwise very good at painting Austen’s life as the quintessential Austen tale, with the feisty leading lady, quick wit, and formal customs of the time.  Anne Hathaway was perfect and James McAvoy was just so cute. 

More soon, dear readers…

It Doesn’t Hurt Anymore

Tonight I talked on the phone for about an hour with a guy I dated several months back.  This is notable because it was our first real conversation since we broke up.

We had started off as co-workers, became fast friends, and after my engagement ended, we started dating.  We dated for a few months and then things began to fizzle out.  One day after I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, I called him and asked him point blank whether something was going on.  Then he ‘fessed up:  He said that he didn’t know whether it was just his new job, or whether he didn’t care enough to make the relationship work, but he told me he needed some time to figure things out.  He couched it as a “break” but I took it for what it was: a break-up.  I told him I didn’t care to stick around and audition for the role of his girlfriend.

In the aftermath of the breakup, I experienced a rollercoaster of emotions.  I felt hurt, angry and betrayed.  I was hurt about the fact that he had a change of heart, but even more than that, I was upset that he wasn’t upfront with me about it, even though we had started off as such close friends–instead, he pulled away and made me initiate the breakup conversation.  (For what it’s worth, I should have seen this coming.  This was a guy who felt too guilty to “break up” with his personal trainer when he could no longer afford the sessions, so he just stopped returning the guy’s phone calls.)  At the time it felt like the world was ending.  I couldn’t envision my life without him in it, and yet I couldn’t envision ever being OK with just being friends, either.

So for the last several months, we had not talked on the phone at all, though we had chatted online once and exchanged voice messages.  When we chatted online, we had shared information about the people we were seeing (I only felt a little gratified when he described his new girlfriend as “crazy”) and to my surprise it felt actually fine. 

And then tonight we talked and it struck me: talking to him didn’t hurt at all.  Not a pang of regret.  Not a twinge of nostalgia.  Nada.   It was truly just like a reunion with an old friend.  We talked about work, our families, our friends, and did general catching up.  We each commented that it was nice to hear the other person’s voice.  We laughed about things that I never thought we’d laugh about.  And then we said goodnight and that we’d talk soon — and that was that.  The world stayed intact.

And it seems that’s just the way it goes.  When relationships end, when your heart hurts, it really does just take time.  Whenever something bad happens, I always wish that I could push past the hard part, but it’s just part of the process.  At the time it seems endless, but then time goes by and one day you look around and you realize that you’re OK.  And you realize that you’ve been OK, and you’ve been happy, for quite some time, but you were too busy being happy and living your life to recognize the change. 

As they say, “This too shall pass.”  And it’s such a relief to remember how true that is.