Working at the firm is kind of like having a quirky, rich uncle. Sometimes it's amusing, sometimes it's annoying, and occasionally you get fun things. Yesterday we got a happy hour (and, as part of that, to leave at 5 - more exciting?!). This week I've had an interesting project. And today we had a painful training.
The happy hour gave the summers more time to hang out and get to know each other. Surprisingly, I beat Chris at pool 2 out of 3 games. And after a few drinks, we found out from the recruiting coordinator how many people interviewed at our office that were winnowed down to the eventual 5 summer associates we have. It's a shocking number and points me towards "luck" as the answer to how I got here.
Today's training was for about Professional Development and setting SMART Goals. SMART is an acronym for Specific, ummmm Mandatory? Asinine? No, those are words that describe the training. Alright, I don't remember what the acronym is, but the woman leading it made us write down short-term goals and specific ways to accomplish them. She was physically in the room with us, so we had to play nice and look remotely interested. Then she went through the videoconference and made one or two people from each office say what they wrote. Everyone's goals were bland, legitimate work goals for the summer: "I want to attend a hearing on an issue I worked on, and I will accomplish this by speaking to the associate I am working with..." and "I want to get work from ten partners in my department." Except this one kid in the Boston office. He says, "I want to get married. Five year goal. And I will accomplish this by getting my girlfriend to move here, then..." before he got cut off. The woman in our office running the training was shocked. I want to buy him a beer when I meet him. If training lady hadn't been standing twelve feet from me, I would have burst out laughing. Way to give an answer as useless as the question!
I didn't really know what lawyers "do" all day, and I'm still not sure. I feel like that with a lot of professions. My major project this week has been reading a hyper-technical contract and essentially rewriting it in terms that the client signing the contract will understand. The contract was, of course, drafted by lawyers. Come to think of it, this is what happened: the client paid lawyers to do something, they did it obtusely, and now the client has to pay lawyers again to tell them what they did in the first place. When she first started, Rebecca described the job of a contractor as "You make problems, then you fix the problems you made." That sounds eerily similar. What a hilarious business model!
Granted, there really is a point to "legalese" and writing contracts in such technical language. If it weren't written that way, there would probably be a lot of loopholes and ambiguities. But I don't think I am doing too much that a regular person couldn't do. I think that law school just helps train us to focus more and not give up at pointlessly complex language.
Corporations is turning out to be an incredibly helpful class. Tax also.
Last Saturday night I was told that if I were a Star Wars character, I would be C-3P0. It was easily the worst part of my night. I was so dismayed. The next morning I was told I would be an Ewok. I don't know if that helps. I guess it does?
For once, I was polite on the escalator and it paid off. The down escalator was broken, so everyone had to climb down. The pace was pretty slow because there was a guy a few people ahead of me climbing fairly slowly. I contemplated cutting him and the other people by shooting down the left side, but decided against it. Then someone behind me did the left side route, and jostled the slow guy a little bit. Well, when we got to the end, it turned out the slow guy was slow because he walks with a freaking cane. I am so glad I (for once) was polite and wasn't some jerk making life harder for a guy with a cane.
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
First Day of Work - Dun Dun Dun
Today was my first day of work as a summer associate. For the hype and varying anxiety levels leading up to today, I spent most of the day in a conference room listening to orientation speeches. I have a summer class of 5 and I will be working mainly with two associates. The other summer associates ("summers") seem friendly and social. The associates seem eager to get to know us and help us learn the ropes. We were served breakfast and lunch in the conference room in between meeting partners, associates, and various administrators. We are given access to all kinds of cool things like secretaries, paralegals, mail services, records services, IT, and other things you would expect to find. Of course we had an orientation session relating to each one of these. After a building tour (we have showers in the basement!?) we were shown our offices.
Perks include an office with windows (and locks), a blackberry, a laptop and extra screen, swag with the firm's logo, lunches with associates, and social events. Oh, and experience.
Today, I was worried about not having a briefcase. How will I transport my briefs (read: glasses, packed lunches, and books)? Turns out the firm had it covered: one of the major pieces of swag waiting in my office was a briefcase. This is second only to the beach bag with firm logo emblazoned towel.
So, the first day finishes. Honestly, it was kind of awkward, but what first day isn't? The summers sort of felt each other out and tried to get a feel for the associates and the culture of the office (which is pretty relaxed - suits are the exception, not the rule). We were all focused, extra polite, and extra conscientious. The building tour included so much door holding that even the most chivalrous knight would have gotten tired of it; and the firm-sponsored happy hour after work saw summers have no more than 2 or 3 beers each.
There is a conference room across the hall from my office. There is a painting on the wall of the conference room positioned so that it can be seen from my office and my desk. The painting is, for lack of a better description, kind of creepy. It is a scene of an older woman looking at a picture album in front of some big windows. Why? Why would this be mounted on the wall of a law firm's conference room looking into my office? I will try to take and post a picture of this painting if I can take one discretely. I named the woman Lucille (perhaps an Arrested Development homage) and decided that she will be my thinking buddy. I will turn to her in difficult situations where I need to mull over a problem. Lucille will bring me wisdom - and creepiness.
The recruiting partner told us a story of a summer who was surprisingly given an offer. The summer had a few drinks before dinner at a firm-sponsored social event. At dinner, he was seated next to a fairly senior partner who was described as "gentlemanly" and perhaps southern. The summer finished his meal but was apparently still hungry. He began taking food off the partner's plate next to him and eating it. The partner was astounded, as were all the summers and associates listening to the story. I think there will be great stories from my firm.
There is probably more, but I did not sleep well last night and awoke at 6:30 this morning in an attempt to get into a new routine. So that is all for now.
Perks include an office with windows (and locks), a blackberry, a laptop and extra screen, swag with the firm's logo, lunches with associates, and social events. Oh, and experience.
Today, I was worried about not having a briefcase. How will I transport my briefs (read: glasses, packed lunches, and books)? Turns out the firm had it covered: one of the major pieces of swag waiting in my office was a briefcase. This is second only to the beach bag with firm logo emblazoned towel.
So, the first day finishes. Honestly, it was kind of awkward, but what first day isn't? The summers sort of felt each other out and tried to get a feel for the associates and the culture of the office (which is pretty relaxed - suits are the exception, not the rule). We were all focused, extra polite, and extra conscientious. The building tour included so much door holding that even the most chivalrous knight would have gotten tired of it; and the firm-sponsored happy hour after work saw summers have no more than 2 or 3 beers each.
There is a conference room across the hall from my office. There is a painting on the wall of the conference room positioned so that it can be seen from my office and my desk. The painting is, for lack of a better description, kind of creepy. It is a scene of an older woman looking at a picture album in front of some big windows. Why? Why would this be mounted on the wall of a law firm's conference room looking into my office? I will try to take and post a picture of this painting if I can take one discretely. I named the woman Lucille (perhaps an Arrested Development homage) and decided that she will be my thinking buddy. I will turn to her in difficult situations where I need to mull over a problem. Lucille will bring me wisdom - and creepiness.
The recruiting partner told us a story of a summer who was surprisingly given an offer. The summer had a few drinks before dinner at a firm-sponsored social event. At dinner, he was seated next to a fairly senior partner who was described as "gentlemanly" and perhaps southern. The summer finished his meal but was apparently still hungry. He began taking food off the partner's plate next to him and eating it. The partner was astounded, as were all the summers and associates listening to the story. I think there will be great stories from my firm.
There is probably more, but I did not sleep well last night and awoke at 6:30 this morning in an attempt to get into a new routine. So that is all for now.
Monday, May 9, 2011
I have been slacking on the updates hardcore. But it is my brief summer before work, so give me a break. I am in Boston for the week. I spent yesterday (Mothers' Day) with my mom. I had been traveling and had not yet procured a gift, so I warned her that I would need an hour with the car on Sunday before I could commence with official Mothers' Day ceremonies. After half an hour of sweating it out at Crate & Barrel, I remembered something she said she wanted: kitchen shears. I also got her a nice cold beverage travel container (something practical) and a set of colored porcelain measuring cups (something cute). I think I did pretty well overall. Could be worse, she could have gotten a macaroni necklace. I think she has received a few of those in my time.
Apparently the stores in the mall opened at noon, so I had to wait around for a bit before getting a gift. I clearly did not get the memo about opening at noon on Sundays. I mean, I know stores open late, but not that late. What about all the poor men out there who lack adequate planning skills and are forced to purchase presents the day of?! What about all the poor women out there who just received lovely flowers but do not have an adequate matching vase to put them in? What about all the people who need to purchase a milk frother for their Sunday brunch? Come on, think about it Crate & Barrel. You are not acting like a store of the people.
Friday I was in Baltimore for Nakul's recital. I thought he did a great job. He sang a nice little song called "If You've Only Got A Moustache," which you should totally check out. Before the recital I walked around the Inner Harbor. I got there on the Circulator, a free bus. It was around 3:30 on Friday afternoon, and there was a good deal of traffic as well as a lot of people on the Circulator. Halfway through the ride, this well-dressed man and two well-dressed women got on. It was pretty clear they had never ridden the Circulator before, and I am not positive that the man had ever taken public transportation before. He was shocked at how crowded the bus was and loudly inquired, "Don't you people have jobs?" When he realized other people could hear him he tried to play it off as a joke, but really he was just a pompous jerk. Later, I wound up next to him and the two women towards the back of the bus. He continued to comment about how long the ride took, how the bus kept stopping, and how he would certainly never use the bus again. Buddy, it's a free bus: you get what you paid for. Additionally, you look like an arrogant buffoon with no idea of how "the commoners" live. If you have such a problem with it, why don't you whip out your wallet and pay for a taxi cab. Or just drive your Rolls Royce to the Inner Harbor.
After Nak's recital, we went out to the Alehouse, where we did not pay for the bar tab. I had some good conversations, Nakul enjoyed the company of his friends, and BDP made hilarious conversation with the waitstaff (who had boyfriends, sadly for him). I must emphasize that none of the "children" (30 and unders at this point, just to be safe), paid the tab. Many of us wandered to another hole in the wall bar, where we imbibed unnecessary, cheap pints, and Stephanie consumed what she imagined to be the last olive in Baltimore (the first bar was out, and this was the last olive at the second bar).
Today I went with my mother to Woodman's, which claims to have invented the fried clam. Alright, they invented it. I don't know why I am skeptical, but I like to think it is a healthy skepticism. It was very New England, and I enjoyed it. I almost bought a small wooden figurine of a sailor from them, but I realized this was an unnecessary trinket, and I could just remind myself that I was a gritty New Englander in my mind. Super gritty. Nothing but true grit up in law school.
I did not fail Tax!
I finished "All the Pretty Horses" last night. That Cormac McCarthy sure knows how to write. Now I get to watch the movie, if only so I can say, "The book was better."
Apparently the stores in the mall opened at noon, so I had to wait around for a bit before getting a gift. I clearly did not get the memo about opening at noon on Sundays. I mean, I know stores open late, but not that late. What about all the poor men out there who lack adequate planning skills and are forced to purchase presents the day of?! What about all the poor women out there who just received lovely flowers but do not have an adequate matching vase to put them in? What about all the people who need to purchase a milk frother for their Sunday brunch? Come on, think about it Crate & Barrel. You are not acting like a store of the people.
Friday I was in Baltimore for Nakul's recital. I thought he did a great job. He sang a nice little song called "If You've Only Got A Moustache," which you should totally check out. Before the recital I walked around the Inner Harbor. I got there on the Circulator, a free bus. It was around 3:30 on Friday afternoon, and there was a good deal of traffic as well as a lot of people on the Circulator. Halfway through the ride, this well-dressed man and two well-dressed women got on. It was pretty clear they had never ridden the Circulator before, and I am not positive that the man had ever taken public transportation before. He was shocked at how crowded the bus was and loudly inquired, "Don't you people have jobs?" When he realized other people could hear him he tried to play it off as a joke, but really he was just a pompous jerk. Later, I wound up next to him and the two women towards the back of the bus. He continued to comment about how long the ride took, how the bus kept stopping, and how he would certainly never use the bus again. Buddy, it's a free bus: you get what you paid for. Additionally, you look like an arrogant buffoon with no idea of how "the commoners" live. If you have such a problem with it, why don't you whip out your wallet and pay for a taxi cab. Or just drive your Rolls Royce to the Inner Harbor.
After Nak's recital, we went out to the Alehouse, where we did not pay for the bar tab. I had some good conversations, Nakul enjoyed the company of his friends, and BDP made hilarious conversation with the waitstaff (who had boyfriends, sadly for him). I must emphasize that none of the "children" (30 and unders at this point, just to be safe), paid the tab. Many of us wandered to another hole in the wall bar, where we imbibed unnecessary, cheap pints, and Stephanie consumed what she imagined to be the last olive in Baltimore (the first bar was out, and this was the last olive at the second bar).
Today I went with my mother to Woodman's, which claims to have invented the fried clam. Alright, they invented it. I don't know why I am skeptical, but I like to think it is a healthy skepticism. It was very New England, and I enjoyed it. I almost bought a small wooden figurine of a sailor from them, but I realized this was an unnecessary trinket, and I could just remind myself that I was a gritty New Englander in my mind. Super gritty. Nothing but true grit up in law school.
I did not fail Tax!
I finished "All the Pretty Horses" last night. That Cormac McCarthy sure knows how to write. Now I get to watch the movie, if only so I can say, "The book was better."
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