The Eleventh Wheel

Another weekend is coming to an end, dear readers, and I thought I’d wrap it all up with a blog. Overall it was a pretty mellow weekend. I had to work part of the day yesterday and for a couple of hours today, but other than that I enjoyed the 4th annual cookie party with my former roommates, catching up on Netflix (Waitress and Superbad), reading (I am halfway through Saving Fish from Drowning) and, of course, my firm’s holiday party.

The holiday party was very nice–beautiful location, nice cocktail hour and appetizers, a meal, dancing. I love my co-workers, and the speeches were good (in particular one partner who had the crowd roaring with laughter – I literally had tears streaming down my face, I was laughing so hard). But still, I admit I didn’t exactly have fun. And I hate to say this, because I don’t want to be “that” whiny single person, but, well…frankly, it sort of sucks being a single in a sea of couples. For part of the night I was able to ignore the fact and even enjoy being a solo agent. During cocktail hour I wandered around and chatted with people, and felt sort of relieved to just be able to do my own thing. One funny thing about the night was that I was driving, so I only had 1/2 a glass of wine over the course of the whole night. My co-workers, on the other hand…not so much. Even my boss, when I was chatting with him toward the end of the night, was noticeably slurring his speech. People were getting very confessional with me, and I was just sort of nodding and humoring them.

Anyway, when my singleness became really noticeable was when we moved into the ballroom for the sit-down portion of the evening. There was no assigned seating, so people started grabbing up spots. Each table had 10 seats at it. Some of the girls I really like in my department encouraged me to come sit with them…but there were 10 seats, 5 couples already sitting there. One of my co-workers’ boyfriends went and stole a chair from another table so I could join them. This, of course, meant that I ended up stealing someone else’s napkin and fork, too. And at one point as I was eating my bloody prime rib and I looked around at everyone whispering conversation with ther spouse or boyfriend, I thought, Dear God, I’m the ELEVENTH WHEEL! (Actually, in the party as a whole I was probably the hundred-and-eleventh wheel, but who’s counting?)

After dinner I was literally dragged up on the dance floor by the arm, by my friend’s fiance. I danced while it was a group, but after a while, nobody was dancing in groups, just in couples, and I found myself weaving around on the dance floor among all the oblivious couples. If it had been a movie, everything would have been slow motion and there certainly would have been some sad song playing in the background. Soon afterward, I decided to leave, over the protests of my (tipsy) co-workers. One of my friends actually came running after me and was like, “Stay! You can drink, we can take a cab back later!” I begged off — it was sweet of her, but I was tired and done with the evening. I think maybe she was worried about me, and it would have taken too much effort to explain, “This isn’t fun, but it’s not the end of the world — I’d just rather be home in my PJs right now.”

I was talking to my college friend K. on the phone today — she is recently single after a long time on-again-off-again relationship with a guy who, in my opinion, sounded like no good. K. is one of the most spirited and outgoing, fun-loving people I know, so I think she’s a good single role model. I was talking to her about the fact that I love my girlfriends, but that most of them are married or pseudo-married and therefore not often available for or interested in girls’ nights or girls’ vacations. On Saturday night, after working a good chunk of the day, I felt like I wanted to go out. But I knew that my friends would be otherwise occupied with their men, so I opted for Netflix. To give a larger-scale example, I love to travel and would love to plan some little trips out of town, or bigger trips. But I can’t get anyone to go with me, either because they are saving time/money to travel with their BFs/spouses, or are saving money in general. Sometimes I feel like, what’s the use in working hard and making money if I don’t get to do the things I want to do? I was thinking about just saying screw it and taking a solo weekend trip in January, but I know myself and I’d probably just end up feeling sad and annoyed that I spent money to be in a different city alone – I can do that here!

Anyway, K. told me that when she was single a while ago, she started affirmatively trying to meet other single girls when she went out. I think maybe cultivating some new friendships would be a good thing for me…but then again, if I’m too busy at work to go out and meet new men, how am I going to meet new women? I guess it would be an interesting experiment to see which would be easier – finding a new guy, or finding a new girlfriend? Hmmm.

K. also told me something last time we talked that I really identify with. She said that she would be more fine with being single if she knew that she would eventually meet the right person. She wouldn’t need to know how or when – but just that she would meet him at some point. That’s sort of how I feel now. It’s not that being on my own is that bad day to day. But what bothers me is thinking that this could be how it is…indefinitely. I can bear being a little lonely now. I don’t know if I can bear this being the norm. I guess it’s all about attitude. Maybe I just need to buck up.

At any rate, dear readers, I hadn’t intended to write such a whiny post tonight! More sunny things next time, I swear…

That’s the thing about needs.

Sometimes when you get them met, you don’t need them anymore.

That’s one of my favorite Sex and the City quotes — from the episode where Carrie and Aidan have moved in together, she is feeling crowded and she tells him that she needs to shut the sheer curtain that separates the “bedroom” from the sitting area and have an hour to herself. He says ok, she shuts the curtain, and then five mintes later, just knowing that she could have that space if she needed it, she feels better and comes out to snuggle with him.

That is a bit how I feel today–having given myself permission to dream and percolate about changing jobs, moving cities, changing my life, I somehow feel more peaceful with my life as it is. I’m going to keep dreaming and planning and thinking about a change, but I know there’s no urgency–I can make those changes however and whenever I want, so I can live my life calmly in the meantime as I figure out my next step. Whew.

This weekend was exactly what the doctor ordered. On Friday night, I joined Knittkins, the sisters and the Baron for pizza, ice cream cake and a marathon game of Monopoly. That has always been one of my favorite games, but as an only child I was hard pressed to get my parents to play with me, and now I know why — it takes absolutely forever. We played until 12:30 am when all of us but Knittikins and The Baron had lost all our money and property, and then left them to play head-to-head.

Last night was my friend D.’s big gala, and I was very impressed by him and by the event. He stood up and gave some remarks, and he is so poised and well-spoken — practically presidential. He has done so much in the year that he’s been at his job. It’s interesting because we went to law school together and he has had his moments of feeling wistful that he’s not at a firm — but as I told him when I called him tonight, he is making a real difference in the community, and I think he should be so proud of himself. (Meanwhile, as I like to say, I’m saving the world…one real estate developer at a time.)

To wind down the weekend, Knittikins and I went to get massages today. It was fantastic. I carry a ridiculous amount of tension in my shoulders and upper back, and so massages are normally not so relaxing for me, since I spend the better part of them wincing in pain. The woman today, though, used a great technique where she stretched and pulled on my arms and legs…it was like lazy girl’s yoga. I could get used to that!

Tomorrow begins another week … I am reciting a mantra to try to keep from sliding back into panic mode. Onward and upward, dear readers!

Bloggity Bloggity

Apropos of nothing: is there a cuter TV couple than Jim and Pam on The Office? Yes, I know, how very 2 years ago. And yes, I know that in real life, John Krasinski is rumored to be somewhat of an ass. (Stop breaking my heart!) But I was just watching them quip with each other and laugh together in that sweet way and it made me smile. Shmoop, shmoop.

After a rough night last night in which I had the worst stomach pain I’ve ever had (once the pain eased up, I pulled the classic and ill-advised move of Googling my own symptoms, and I even called Knittikins and asked her what her appendicitis felt like), and a rough day in which I had to shlep up to court in Glendale still feeling icky, I am now feeling more like myself. I have almost survived to the end of the week and, more importantly, I am beginning to put things into perspective. It’s easy to get bogged down with the details of my job and forget to see the overall picture of my life and all the choices I have, so getting to step back is a very nice thing.

A couple of words on my court appearance in Glendale. First of all, Glendale might as well be Egypt for as long as it took to get back from there. Coming up on the 405 interchange from the 101, I saw a hideous lineup of cars, and thought, Ah ha! I’ll beat all these suckers by getting off the freeway, making my way down to Ventura, cutting back to Beverly Glen and taking that over the hill and right back to the office. Of course, everyone else had the same genius idea….

Anyway, what really struck me about my time in Glendale is how much power judges really have over their cases. By way of background, in L.A. there is a mediation program in the superior court system. Mediators volunteer ther time, parties don’t have to pay for it, and mediation is all but mandatory. This case I appeared for today isn’t one I have worked on, but both the partner and the associate were on international vacations (lucky ducks) so I got to take one for the team. It went something like this:

Judge: How do the parties feel about mediation?
Little Miss Law: Well, your Honor, we have explained all of the ADR options to our client, and she isn’t interested in pursuing mediation at this time.
Judge: Ok.
(pause; Little Miss Law breathes an internal sigh of relief.)
Judge: But, that really isn’t up to her. I’m referring the case to mediation. So go downstairs and pick a mediator.

Al righty then!

This weekend promises to be fun and relaxing — a mellow birthday celebration with Knittikins, the sisters and the Baron tomorrow; my friend D.’s big gala on Saturday night (finally, another chance to wear the gorgeous dress I bought for my firm’s holiday party last year!) and on Sunday, a wind-down with Knittikins at Burke Williams. Exactly what I need…ahhh.

I’m also planning on ordering one of the many books about legal and nonlegal career options for lawyers, and I welcome any inspiring ideas from you, dear readers!

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.

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!

Little Miss Law’s Guide to Vegas

I am back from my Vegas extravaganza, and we had a fantastic time !  I was a little worried that we wouldn’t be able to do Vegas like we did in law school, since we go out so much less these days, but we brought out some serious rally monkeys and partied like rockstars (as evidenced by the fact that when I woke up this morning, my first thought was, “Can you actually die from sleep deprivation?”).  As my dear readers know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas — so I can’t share any of the juicy details of the weekend.  I thought that instead, I’d share some of my favorite places we visited, for any of you (esp ladies) who are planning a Vegas weekend. 

1)  The Lazy River at the MGM.  The “river” meanders all through the pool area, with beach chairs all around it.  It was ridiculously hot this weekend, so we didn’t spend as much time at the pool as we normally might, but when it got too hot to handle, it was so pleasant to just float down the river (notwithstanding all the children and drunk people).  You can also rent an innertube — though I saw one very irate couple who got their innertube stolen.  Not pretty.

2)  Moon Nightclub at the Palms Casino.  The club is on the top of the Palms, so there is an amazing view of the Strip and the city….gorgeous.  On the 2nd floor there is a separate bar that remained uncrowded all night, and we could go out on the balcony to get fresh air and check out the view.  They also played really fun music all night – everything from hip hop to 80’s to techno.  But get on the list or you’ll be waiting a loooooong time.

3)  Fat Tuesday’s.  If you’ve ever been to New Orleans, you are familiar with the shops on every corner selling the pre-mixed slushy drinks.  Fat Tuesday’s brings that to Vegas.  There’s one in MGM and one in New York New York (and probably others I’m not thinking of).  You pay less than $10 and get a big slushy drink of your choice – if you are feeling particularly adventurous, add a shot of Everclear.  You’ll be happy you did when you get to the clubs and realize that drinks and shots are $12 apiece.

4) Finally, the piece de resistance for any bachelorette party — Thunder From Down Under.   Some of my girls were not so excited, but by the end of the night, even the naysayers were hoarse from so much hooting, hollering and laughing.  (I think the bacheloretts exclaimed, “That was the best thing EVER!”)  If you go, especially for a special occasion, make sure to splurge for the VIP seats — it means that the guys dance on your table and it’s more likely that someone from your party will get chosen for special attention…esp if she is wearing a veil!  The show is basically just hilarious and entertaining.  I can’t say so enough.

That concludes my tour of Vegas!

Oh!  One last story.  On the way back from Vegas, my friend O. and I flew together and were seated next to a guy who was probably in his 30’s, who did real estate.  We were talking shop for a while, then he asked O. how long she had been married.  They chatted about that for a minute, then he asked me, “What about you?”  I replied that I’m not married.  He looked at me for a second and said, “You have a cat, though.”

What????  I know I talk about Noodles and pet strollers on here a fair amount, but in general I didn’t think that I actually came across as a crazy cat lady!  *Sigh*. 

Who reads this blog, anyway?

My dear readers, by now you all know to a certain extent who Little Miss Law is — or rather, what she’s like, what makes her tick, what pisses her off … you catch my drift.  Indeed, a good number of my readers have the *privilege* of knowing the “real life” Little Miss Law.

Yet, it feels sometimes like the playing field is a bit uneven, because I don’t know much about my readers.  Who the hell are you?  The only knowledge I have about my readers (aside from the usual suspects — aloha, Mom & Dad) comes from one of my favorite WordPress features, where you can read the search engine terms people used to find your blog.  Here are the terms people used to make their way to Little Miss Law this week:

“little miss law blog”  (YES!  I have a following!)  😉

“kathy the cartoon character” (Ahem, it’s Cathy with a C.  But if you are reading my blog I forgive you.)

“sighting ben mckenzie” (Glad to see I’m not the only celeb stalker.)

“triplets joke” (I wonder if this person liked my Siamese triplets pun.)

“wordpress theme” (Huh?)

“confessions office watercooler blog”

“Fashion dress blog” (Sorry to disappoint.)

“wear to court” 

“once a week my cat go crazy and attack” (Spray bottle!!)

“going to court heels” (Yes, they are called pumps.  ‘Nuff said.)

So, in a nutshell (help, I’m in a nutshell!  how do I get out of this nutshell?) my readers are crazy cat ladies (or ladies with crazy cats), lawyers, celebrity stalkers and gossip hounds.  Indeed, you’re my kind of people!  Keep reading!

Tomorrow I hop on a plane and fly to the beautiful island of Maui.  Snorkeling, hiking, lounging, eating…I wish I could just transport myself there instantly. 

I’ve also bought a few books to take with me, since pleasure reading is one of my biggest loves and it so often falls by the wayside.  They are:  The Guy Not Taken (short stories by Jennifer Weiner, author of Good in Bed and In Her Shoes); Saving Fish from Drowning, by Amy Tan (Joy Luck Club) and finally A Mighty Heart (the Daniel Pearl story, now starring Angelina Jolie).  I will update you when I return!

Though I know tears will be shed that I will be blog-free for a week, I just can’t imagine shlepping my laptop to Hawaii, so I will say goodbye for now!  But first I will leave you with the Ben McKenzie story that I promised you (since apparently at least one person cares).

It was the afterparty to the premiere of Rocky Balboa, which was actually really fun, not because the movie was good at all (I admit to never having seen the others, but this was a clearly over-the-top schmaltzy throwback to them, not in a good way), but just imagine a theater full of people chanting, “Ro-cky!  Ro-cky!”  Goodtimes.

Anyway, I was with my co-workers, who luckily know and love me.  I announced that I was going to go talk to Ben, and was heartily egged on.  He was sitting with Kevin Connolly (who I just noticed on IMDb was in Rocky V) and some other guys I didn’t recognize, no other girls in sight.  There was an empty seat next to him that I resolved to plop myself down in.  I marched in the direction of his table….then hovered nearby, unable to get up the nerve to approach him.  This went on for a while until I gave up and returned to my friends.  Luckily, I don’t think he saw me stalking him.

Soon thereafter, a beautiful brunette sat down in the coveted seat and they started chatting and eventually snapping pictures.  “That could have been me!”  I kept thinking for the rest of the evening.  The next day I went online and sure enough, I found this picture of Ben and the beautiful brunette.  I sent it to my friend C. and wrote “see, this could have been me!”  She responded, “Um, that’s the girl who plays Sloan on Entourage.”

Doh!  I guess my brush with celebrity wasn’t quite as close as I imagined.

Till next week….

The “end” is just the beginning

Ok, ok.  That title is such a tease.  It suggests that I am going to be writing about something deep and insightful, like starting over after a rough time, bouncing back from a breakup, or something along the lines of one of my favorite song lyrics: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”  (SO 1998.)  Yes, that would be an excellent topic for a post.  But not for today.

First, my apologies for the radio silence on my blog.  I have been half uninspired, half busy having fun,  and half (YES I know that makes 1 1/2 — shhh!!) trying to tie up all the loose ends at work to avoid having to answer calls from my law firm on my cell phone while I lay on the Maui beach and soak up some sun and some R & R.  The  long awaited vacation is almost upon me!!  After months of fantasizing, as of Wednesday I am leaving L.A., work, and all my everyday worries behind.  I can’t wait!

And here comes the real meaning of the title — it is the end of the summer in the world of my firm, since all the summer associates are about to leave.  We even had the “end-of-summer” party on Saturday.  But for me, the highlight of my summer is still to come!  So the “end” of the summer is just the beginning…ok, it’s cheezy.  So sue me.  (I feel like I say that too much.  As though there is not enough litigation in my life as is!  Sheesh.)

The end-of-summer party was classic of my firm.  First, there was the dress theme.  When I was a summer associate, the theme was the Roaring 20’s.  Where everyone else was understated in black dresses and pearls, I was too eager and new to know any better, and I took the theme seriously, borrowing a full flapper costume from a friend–fishnets, hair feather and all.  And I didn’t even have the wits to be embarrassed about it at the time; I’m just cringing in hindsight. 

Anyway, the theme of Saturday’s party was Black and White.  Everyone was quite tastefully dressed…the only people who stuck out were those who missed the black and white memo (polka dot pale blue tie, anyone?) but all in all, my office-mates clean up well. 

The evening was held at a partner’s home; he’s one of my favorites and I’m on 2 cases with him.  Earlier in the week, I had told him an answer he liked for one of our cases, so he told me that as a “reward” he would specially make me a Cosmopolitan at this party, even though it wasn’t on the drink menu.  (As I tell this story, you must picture that this partner is pushing 70, and of everyone in my life he reminds me most of my grandfather.  So NO, it’s not sketchy, it’s just funny.)  All week he bragged about his Cosmopolitan.

When I arrived at the party, I walked over to say hi to the host and others.  They were standing adjacent to the bar that was set up outside; in addition to the bartenders there were several waiters circulating and offering hors d’oeuvres.  Immediately, the host broke from the group, grabbed my arm and steered me into the kitchen, where he pulled out the lime juice, cranberry juice, vodka, triple sec and martini shaker that he had set aside.  He mixed the drink and waited expectantly as I sipped it.  He wasn’t joking around — he mixes a mean Cosmo!  Later, when my drink ran out, he dashed inside to pour me another one.  Now there’s a host.  (Does it take 70 years of life for a man to be that attentive?  Kidding!)

The food at the party was really sensational — there were all sorts of food stations.  I meant to work my way around, but after a generous helping of the best chicken curry I have ever had, and a cone full of yummy French fries, I was stuffed. 

Then, the dancing began.  All the bigtime partners were there and it was adorable to see them dancing with their wives or husbands.  Our jobs are stressful and takes its toll on many relationships, but some of these couples have been together for decades and you can just see how happy they are together.  It’s a beautiful thing to see. 

And with that, the “summer” has come to an end.

A couple of more things before I bid you adieu for the evening, dear readers.  First, I really wanted to do my laundry tonight.  But 2 of the washers are broken and the other 2 are being used.  Either I will stay up late tonight (doubtful) or wait till the last minute tomorrow (likely).  This is one of many reasons that I often fantasize about my own little house.  *Sigh*.

And now, another confession.  These days all my confessions seem to be about the awful TV I find myself watching the couple of nights a week that I stay home and veg with Noodles.  Tonight the new gem is: Scott Baio is 45 and Single.  I don’t even want to explain.  It’s exactly what it sounds like.  Wow, new shows need to come on and I need to get TiVo…stat.