Radio Silence

Wow, so sorry for the radio silence. It's been...a lot. I was sick for a while in DC, then came up to Boston for a nice little vacation and ended up in the hospital for a few days. Dream vacation. Better than a cruise. No really, the hospital is less confining than a cruise ship, minus the whole being sick thing. At least there was no rocking. But there were vital sign check-ins every four hours. My favorite one was the regular 4 am check-in. It didn't lead to a lot of good sleep, let me say.

But now I am out and healthy(ish), regaining my energy and having a "real" vacation. I had to postpone my DC return, and in doing so I missed the DC earthquake. Too bad, I have never been in an earthquake. It sounds exciting. Added bonus: none of the stuff in my apartment broke or fell. My roommate reports that some of the pictures on my walls are askew. Damn you, earthquake! But really what is this, California? We don't have nearly enough actors to cause earthquakes in DC.

My time in Boston is going pretty well. I am just hanging out, relaxing...shootin' some b-ball outside of school. Alright, maybe not that. More like going to the outlets with Shaked and Ron and trying to convince Ron to buy argyle sweater-vests. But if you are in Boston and want to see me, I suggest you let me know. I'm looking at Erica right now. That's right, getting called out in a blog post. Which you may or may not read. I understand after the long silence, people may have thought I sunk after hitting an iceberg. Not the case. It's summer - there aren't icebergs. Idiot.

I'm sorry, but I really do not get the appeal of Mad Men. I am on the Season 1 finale, and there is still no concrete plot line. A lot of things just kind of happen. So what? Do people like it because it is breaking the traditional Aristotelian plot progression? I doubt it. Is it the 60's style? Or is it just that the actors look pretty? I just don't get it. And yet...I've watched season 1 and the question remains - why?

I wish that I had my class schedule figured out. But I don't. I would love to know how many credits my internship will give me. But why would the school want to tell me a silly thing like that? Oh yeah, I got an internship for this semester. It should be fun and more importantly minimize the time I have to spend in a lecture, reading a textbook, or taking a final.

In other news, I got an offer from my firm. It happened the same day I got out of the hospital. That was...a very good day. I don't think the impact of it has quite sunk in, but I am happy and consider myself very lucky. I would say the odds are about 95% that I will take it. Deep breath. Very lucky.

The Past Week

Alright, so now I'm sick. I have a fever and it hurts to swallow. I will live to fight another day. But it came at about as convenient a time as it could have. I am done with work, back from a vacation in Maine, and have a few days before I head up to Boston. I think this is one of those illnesses where my body finally stopped running and realized it needed to get sick. At least that's how my mother would explain it. Hold on, I'm going out to CVS to get ice cream. Brb.

Alright, mischief managed. Anyways, despite being sick life is not so bad. Last Friday was the last day of work. None of the summer associates really had anything to do. So we cut out early with a few associates and got margaritas and food at Lauriol Plaza. From there we hit up Big Hunt and Buffalo Billiards, the usual haunts. We all agreed that we were happy with the summer and we hope to get offers. The time line for hearing should be another week or two.
I think I have mentioned it before, but it bears repeating. My firm was collegial and relaxed, and there was no one I would not want to work with that I encountered. No sadists, lunatics, or stereotypical biglaw jerks. Everyone worked a lot and worked hard, but was generally happy. It was a much better vibe than I had hoped for. So I would like an offer. It would at least save me some grief. But I would also probably take it. If I have to work in biglaw, then I'd like to work in a good place with fun people. But now the ten week job interview is over and the decision is out of my hands. If worst comes to worst, I got a lot of free monogrammed swag out of it.

Last weekend was highlighted by Emma's band coming to play. They played at the lead singer's cousin's house party and I was told to come and invite friends. I ended up bringing a dozen people with me, so I was nervous that we were just invading someone's house. But it turned out perfectly. The band rocked, everyone loved the music and danced their faces off, and there was free booze. Win-win-win.
Apparently the band made up a song on the spot about bootydo ("When your stomach sticks out farther than you bootydo") while everyone was dancing. And many of my friends were somehow surprised that I brought them to a good party with a fun band. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
It was great to see Emma and her band. There is something gratifying about being the only person who knows any lyrics to any of the songs. Also, something creepy about it.

Monday through Thursday Kerry and I went to Maine to visit Packard. Maine was...great. I actually went to sleep chilly for the first time in months. And the Packard family is awesome. I would much rather lay on a boat in the middle of the lake in Maine enjoying the sun than sweat through my shirt at 7:45 am on the Metro going to work. But that's not much of a comparison is it? Well, I got to do that boat thing. I also got to grill steaks, go on a cocktail cruise, go to the outlets, and walk around Portland. All in a couple of day's work. Uncharacteristically, the most incredible thing I did was lie in the boat for a half an hour at night, looking at the stars. Sounds sappy, I know, but I did see three shooting stars. The sky was so clear, it was like being in a planetarium. Ok, now I need to say something masculine to cover for the fact that star-gazing was actually quite moving. How about...big dipper, I barely know her. Oh, that's terrible. Let's move on.

I finished "Game of Thrones" and am moving on to "Clash of Kings." Quite addictive. The only problem is that I don't want to have Game of Thrones dreams, so I'm not sure how much of it I should read before bed. I don't even need to dream about the Knight's Watch and wake up wondering how I got to be Hand of the King. It's unhealthy. Nerd alert!

Star Wars and Lord of the Rings: these are a few of my favorite things. It rhymes. And it's true.

I like watching the Nationals and listening to their announcers pretend they still have a shot at the Wild Card. Just because it is statistically still possible to win it, does not mean they have a shot. The Nationals are a scrappy bunch, but they are not going to the playoffs this season. I'm sorry.

Agh, I wish I could think of more to say. Particularly more amusing things. But this darn fever is clouding my thoughts. Fever, fever go away, come again...never.

Chi-Town

I just got back from my trip to Chicago. What's that firm? You want to fly all of the summers nationwide into Chicago for a retreat? No, I have no problem with a free trip to Chicago. So all 31 summers from all offices got to meet each other and get put up in a nice hotel. Wednesday night all of the summers had a cooking competition. Basically we divided into four teams, each under the supervision of a professional chef, and cooked three dishes. My veal marsala was pretty darn good, but ultimately my team did not win. I think it's because we didn't put bacon in. Should have stuck to that plan. The event was surprisingly fun between the good food, beer, and collegial atmosphere. Afterwards all of the summers headed out to a bar together. The recruiting staff was emphatic about taking all our name tags off before we went out (so the firm doesn't get blamed if we do something stupid). My own name tag was practically ripped off my shirt. Without the comfort of name tags, we all headed out to a bar. Some genius in the Chicago office must have suggested this swanky rooftop bar since that's where we ended up. With bottle service (???). Totally unnecessary. It was apparently justified as the most efficient way to get drinks for 30 people. Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. What a stupid waste of money. What an unnecessary status symbol. Why did we need two bottles of vodka for an insane amount of money? We could have filled a hotel room with 30 racks for the same cost. Now there's an efficient way for 30 people to get drinks. So...yeah, I was slightly uncomfortable with getting bottle service. After that bar, a few of us went to a second for a beer before heading back to the hotel for not enough sleep.

The next day consisted of meetings with firm management and a mock negotiation session. I'll call that the "business portion" of the trip. It lasted about 8 hours. For about 4 of those hours I was wondering whether there was any amount of caffeine that would make me feel entirely awake. I think the answer was no - but the early evening nap helped.
For the evening all of the summers headed to a reception at a partner's house. It was nice enough. Excellent cupcakes. The partner had claimed she was cooking for all of us, yet there was a catering staff preparing all of the food. Questionable. Maybe "cooking" means "writing a check." Like the Brits call an elevator a lift. But that's not the fun part.
The fun part was trekking out to the bars in Wriggleyville. We started with 30 summer associates and a handful of associates and partners from the Chicago office. Expense account. Woo! Cue beers, whiskey shots, car bombs, etc. Soon there was an exodus (Bob Marley style) and there were about ten summer associates left, including all five from the DC office and five few from other assorted offices. The ten of us headed to a second bar that provided us with jello shots and more beers. Soon our number dwindled to seven - all five from DC, and one each from New York and Silicon Valley. Pause for a moment. Out of 31 summers total, only 7 survived the second bar, but the entire DC office was still out. Bomb! I think we know what the coolest office is. Unpause. Our second bar was closing a little before 2. Nick, who is from Chicago, goes "Hey guys, I think I know a bar that's open until 4. Let's go!" So the seven of us head out at 2 am to our third bar of the night. I do not remember the name of this bar, but it was surprisingly packed and not one person in it was anywhere approaching sober. Don't you all have jobs? This is 2 am on a Thursday night, what's your master plan for tomorrow? No time to contemplate such things, more beers!
By 3 am, the seven of us (all five from DC, oh yeah! What good bonding!) were pretty hungry. We wandered down the street (the wrong way at first, quite surprisingly) to find pizza. We got to a pizza place that was closing down. "How many slices do you have left?" "Only three." "We'll take all of them." "Um, alright. I guess I'll give you a discount...they are pretty cold." Fine, bring on the discount, that pizza was fantastic, but not enough. Chris wanted to buy a cookie, but freaked out in a fit of profanity upon hearing that it was a $3 cookie. I bought it for him anyways, but he brooded for about five minutes about the three dollar cookie. After the three slices of pizza and the three dollar cookie, we still wanted more to eat. There was a couple in the corner with two intact slices of pizza and we all stared like hyenas. Eventually the couple left, and just threw out the two slices. What? I'm not proud, but I was very close to picking one out of the top of the trash can (what??? it didn't touch anything except the plate it was already on!). Calm down, I didn't do it. Instead, we took cabs back to the hotel and found a 24 hour Dunkin Donuts down the block. I bet you are expecting the ending that we ate donuts until we were content. You'd be wrong if you expected that. It was closed. When does a 24 hour Dunkin Donuts close?? 3:30 am apparently. I have never been so disappointed in a Dunkin Donuts. And that includes the time that Nakul got food poisoning from bad Dunkin Donuts cream cheese. Hungry, the seven of us (five from DC) went to bed, ending an epic night of summer associate bonding...but only for the bold.

The next day I met up with Matt Hope. We went to the Pitchfork Music Festival with Leor and Amy. I didn't know any bands that were playing beforehand, but I liked Das Racist and Battles from what I saw of them. I did not like Animal Collective, to put it mildly. In my opinion they could not have played a more boring set with less rhythm, melody, or energy. It just pissed me off. But it was a good day nonetheless. Even if it was filled with hipsters. And I do mean filled.

Saturday, Matt and I walked around the Loop. We watched some street performers, including acrobats who were vaguely racist and ended up getting a ticket from the police (for being loud and drawing too large a crowd, not for being vaguely racist). Another highlight was walking into a Banana Republic and hearing two guys leaving the store saying, "Wow, we made out in there." I burst out laughing. I knew what they meant, but it was just hilarious. That night we went to a nice dinner, saw a great improv show at IO, met up with Amy at a bar, and saw a midnight sketch show. Mmmm, I missed good comedy. And Matt Hope. It was great to get to hang out with him. And to get him out of lab.

Now I am back in DC. And boy do I need some down time.

Oh White Water, Keep on Rolling

Yesterday was white water rafting with the firm. Breakfast was at 7:15, bus left at 8. Despite the early morning, I was excited. There were 12 people from the firm. We were joined by approximately 80 5th grade campers on the rafting expedition. Luckily, our group got separate rafts and didn't really have to deal with energetic small children. After my raft nearly sunk and we waited half an hour to get a new one, the trip down the river got underway. We went from West Virginia (new state, cross it off the list!) down the Chesapeake to to Virginia. There is a point on the river where you can see the banks of Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland at the same time. Pretty cool. Plus some Civil War battle sights. Nerd alert! Despite being out in the sun for 6 hours or so, I managed not to get sunburned (except for a small strip on my right ankle). I guess slathering on non-CVS brand sunscreen was a good call. Man, I love white water rafting. Not even the sun could bring it down.

Then the second phase of the day began. It started with beers on the bus. 12 people, 60 beers, and one bottle of whiskey. Do the math. It equals inebriation. An associate made a deck of cards out of post-it notes, and we played Kings and a drinking game to the movie "Red" (every time Bruce Willis kills someone, take a drink; every time a major character dies, take a shot). We were all feeling good by the time we got back to the office. One summer got pulled into a meeting with a partner. One associate had to sit in on a conference call. The rest of us went out to the bar. Here's where I remind myself never to drink Red Bull again. Jager-bombs aren't a good idea. Especially not after an early morning and a long day in the sun. An even worse idea: the Irish Trash Can. This is a drink our raft guide told us about, seemingly daring us to drink later on. So of course the four people who were on my raft and heard about the Irish Trash Can had to throw caution to the wind and order them. The drink is essentially a Long Island Iced Tea with blue curacao and a Red Bull, turning it green and making it a bombshell of disgustingly sweet caffeine and alcohol. Anyone who got a phone call or text message last night, that is why. It's been a while since I did something that plainly ridiculous with a drink, but luckily everything worked out well. Everyone was feeling good and chatting, and it was generally a good team building exercise. Did I mention that law has an unabashed drinking culture?

I didn't feel great this morning. At all. But I still was at work by 8:30, dutifully slogging through research in Portuguese. Google Translate is a miracle function, but not perfect and I still don't speak Portuguese, which made the morning's task quite frustrating. Try reading a foreign language on a headache sometime.

In new, old news: cover letters are awful.

Pretense

Monday our softball game looked like it might be rained out. It was a dreary morning, but it gave way to a sunny, lovely day, which I got to enjoy from the air conditioned artificiality of my office. At game time, the playing field was good to go. We beat the pants off the other team (not literally, Park Police might have had something to say about that), winning 20-6. Returning to the office, I stupidly followed Nick on the "shortest way" back, involving going through the middle of the field. Remember, it was raining, so the middle of the field was actually a mine field of mud. A mud field. About 3/4 of the way through the mud I had enough and stupidly decided to start running. That's how much got basically up to my knees, to say nothing of coating my shoes. I had to have a drink with K-Dawg who was in town, so it was dilemma time. Luckily, the firm has showers in the basement. And towels. And soap. Now that's convenience. Of course I didn't plan well enough for my walk back to my office from the shower, and ended up riding the elevator in my dress shoes and athletic shorts with two bemused janitors.

Tuesday evening was the infamous wine tasting at the firm. 9 wines: 3 white, 3 red, 3 mystery red. Lots of pretension ("Blackberries, currant, and some black cherry, definitely cherry"). The "mystery reds" involved a taste test to determine which was a zinfandel, a merlot, and a cabernet. Like I said, lots of pretension ("It has a...dusty finish"). Only 3 people guessed all three right, that's statistically worse than if everyone in the room had randomly guessed. It shows you how random (read: pretentious, yes that word has to be thrown around when discussing a wine tasting) it all is. After the official tasting portion of the wine tasting, the summers and a group of associates headed out to the bars. I have to say, it is pretty intimidating to watch the bartender hand out a dozen Mind Erasers followed by a few rounds of jello shots. Then on to the next bar to play flip cup. In a rare flash of brilliance, I left around midnight rather than sticking it out until the bitter end, which I am told was around 2 am. I did stay for long enough to see one associate storm out of the bar and call for her husband to follow her after a challenging team cheated at flip cup and heated words were exchanged. Luckily, I was not a part of any bad behavior and I was relatively alright the next morning. I actually showed up to work a bit before 9 and didn't have to close the door for a nap. I am told that many associates were not as lucky. Upon reflection, there were some people, largely women, who drank about as much as me and do not weigh nearly as much. They had particularly rough mornings. But my streak of minding myself at firm events is continuing. Halfway through the summer without a major social faux pas!!

The rest of the week was pretty mundane. My mid-summer performance review went pretty well. I didn't really get any constructive criticism, but the flip side is that nothing is wrong. Good thing I have not yet chosen to wear my dog costume and written a memo saying "Woof woof, bark woof bark. Yip."

Last night at the bar I waited literally 25 minutes for a bartender to notice me and place my drink order. Finally I ordered a cider and a whiskey soda - but he had to go downstairs to find me a cider. Then, when he got back up, he charged me $17 and moved on. It would have taken another half hour before I could argue with him about the price, so rather than protest I went on a profanity-laced tirade to my table. I felt better after that, and after the drink was safely in my stomach. But I can't decide if he was wholly incompetent or a brilliant strategist on behalf of the bar. I'm leaning towards the former, but you never know. For my revenge I didn't leave a tip - for the first time I think ever.

Also last night, I had mind-blowing donuts. I know you think most donuts are just donuts. But Ten Penh's donuts are something....special. They are outta this world delicious, topped with cinnamon sugar. It's like reinventing the donut wheel.

I don't think there are any good bagels in this city.

I get sunburned really easily. Like insanely easily. It's a problem. And I have been applying sunscreen, no matter how much I dislike the smell. Now it could be just because I wear the CVS brand sunscreen rather than shelling out the big bucks for a brand name (hellooooo Neutrogina). But I think it might be something else. Maybe I'm dehydrated, which makes it easier for the sun to...burn me. Sounds pretty flimsy. I know I am pale, this is ridiculous.

You Wanted It

Aaaand we're back. Sorry, I just get busy sometimes. If it helps, I didn't get around to speaking to my mother for a couple of days. But Matt does a pretty good Will. And I love it. So here we are.

Work continues to be pretty good. I got an assignment that I am not thrilled about that necessarily involved converting a pdf file to a docx file to a doc file. Now this might sound like a bunch of silly techno mumbo jumbo, but the result was taking three hours to reformat and retype a couple of documents. It was...less than thrilling. And it really did not require any skills that I may have picked up in the past two years of law school.
The other summers and I went out Friday night in Dupont. It was remarkable because it was the first time we had no one from the firm. Therefore we could let loose (read: drink to excess should we choose). The evening began with a stiff manhattan while waiting for two of the summers to finish work (it was after 5!). I was on an empty stomach, so the cocktail and subsequent couple of beers could have knocked me for a loop. But do not worry, gentle reader (Ugh, I hate Miss Manners), I dug in my heals, ate a cheeseburger, and rallied. We all had a good night, full of semi-competitive skee ball and whiskey shots. I learned some things about the other summers - one is a profane drunk, another wears robes as study attire. Good things.
Now, this was actually a very lawyerly activity. To the untrained eye it may seem like we were just going out for a Friday night. But we were actually preparing ourselves for this upcoming Tuesday evening, when the firm will be hosting a wine tasting for us (emphasis on the tasting not on the wine, as an associate described it). The phrase "wined and dined" will be hilariously literal. I have been warned that I may not be incredibly productive with work on Wednesday morning. Good thing there are little packets of Advil next to the coffee machine!

"Everyone looks retarded once you set your mind to it" - David Sedaris. I like it. Very appropriate. I read it in a book of sassy quotations in a women's clothing store in the mall. Is this where wisdom comes from?

Clarence Clemons, the sax player from the E Street Band, died. Sad face. Moment of silence for the Big Man.

I am displaying the beginning symptoms of an addiction to How I Met Your Mother.

I did a mitzvah. I got a drunk man kicked out of a bar this weekend, with Rebecca. No more stumbling around, bumping chairs, and scaring girls for you, mister. Rebecca and I both considered it a mitzvah at the time, but now that I write it out loud (yeah, I see the issue with that) it seems less like the title of mitzvah applies. So what is it then??

Forgetting the ending to "Walk to Remember" made it really awkward when I asked Shaked why they didn't make a sequel. At least I knew it was the one with Mandy Moore! Hrm, maybe this is something I shouldn't have written.

People keep assuming that I'm stoked the Bruins won. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy about it. But hockey is my fourth sport...like, way behind the first three. Aside from winning ("Winning" - Charlie Sheen), my favorite story about the Stanley Cup was Canadians rioting and then apologizing to the city of Boston. How un-Canadian! I like that the out of character action was a story in itself. If the riots had been in Boston, would we have apologized to Canada? I doubt it.

I will try to update more regularly! Conscious effort: go.

226

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.

How Did Offices Run Before Outlook?

Two things I consider hilarious happened yesterday. First, when I walked into the office in the morning a new blackberry was sitting on my desk waiting for me. Midway through the second week of work I finally get one, alright! Only it turns out that the blackberries that the summers get cannot make or receive phone calls, nor can they text message. All they can do is give us our calendar and our email from Outlook. And we can surf the web (hang ten dude!). I am amused by how obvious they make it that the purpose of the blackberry is so that work can reach you at any time. Perhaps the honesty is refreshing?

The second hilarious thing was that the summers in my office all left our harassment training early. How will I know what is appropriate behavior in the workplace? The training (via videoconference, mind you) ran long (due to every bullet point on the presentation being accompanied by a personal anecdote from the employment lawyer). And we had Westlaw training scheduled right after it, so our recruiting coordinator shuffled us on to the next thing. Can someone please tell me what is an "ok touch" versus a "not ok touch??"

If Joseph A. Bank goes out of business as a clothing store, I think it should re-open as a financial institution. It's got the description right there! Also, I really hope it derived its name from someone saying to his five-year old son Joe, "I really need an ATM. Look Joseph, a bank! What luck!"
[I just got a suit from Jos. A Bank, so it's on the brain.]

I want to use my blackberry for evil, but I am not even sure how to accomplish that. They just seem like devices so easily used for morally questionable reasons.

I have never seen Cats, and I am not sorry about that. How, then, do I have songs from Cats stuck in my head? Get out of here, Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!

I can't decide what I dislike more: humidity or people who stand on the left side of the escalator. It's a real toss up.

I got my hair cut this morning before work. I think that's a sign I am becoming a 'real adult.' Next I will have to learn the trick of how to get a haircut and not wind up with hair all over my button down shirt. I don't understand. I wore my undershirt while getting the haircut. I got my hair shampooed. I did the rub-your-head-to-get-all-those-last-trimmings-out thing outside the barbershop. And I still ended up picking hair off my shirt all day.

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.