You're (Not) Fired

As you may remember, I was a bit freaked out about my review a couple of weeks ago. I was sure that in thinking about my work, my bosses would realize there was no good reason to keep me at the firm, and fire me before I could steal any good office supplies.

The other day it occurred to me that my review should be on the system somewhere, and that's how I came to waste some time looking for it.

I found the evaluation Tuna filled out about me. It's okay, but not great. Nothing I'll get fired over (especially since he's an associate rather than a partner).

Green generally performs her work promptly and efficiently, and she knows her job reasonably well; she needs to gain a better knowledge of Word, but that will come as she gains experience.

My knowledge of Word is ... decent. I couldn't be in the Word Processing Department, but any time Tuna asks me to do something fancy involving TOCs or TOAs I can almost always do it. Sometimes. Like maybe half the time. (No, I'm not being defensive at all, why do you ask?)

Green is very good with clients and responsive to them. She needs to improve the thoroughness and accuracy of her work, which she has the ability to do.

Ummm... I think once he asked me to type something and I didn't spellcheck it. Damn, what a memory.

Green is dependable and reliable on projects, always on time for work, willing to stay late when necessary, and conscientious of others.

That's right. I am. You can depend and rely on me, unless you need anything fancy done in Word, or anything done thoroughly or accurately apparently.

Green has excellent problem-solving skills and is flexible and easy to work with, very able to grasp and retain explanations. She needs to improve in terms of taking initiative and self-motivation.

I really am fucking awesome at problem-solving. I wish I could be a professional problem solver; I'd be great at that. Perhaps I'd take greater initiative if I knew what the fuck was going on.

Green is quite stable, mature and professional about her job, and cooperates well with everyone.

I really appreciate this one; I put a lot of effort into being more than civil to LEL, even when she's being mean to me. Plus I grew up being told indirectly that I was unstable, and being told directly that I was immature. And actually, in the absolute worst review I ever got (where I cried right there in the meeting with my boss, through the ENTIRE meeting), I was told I didn't dress professionally enough. I was MORTIFIED.

Green generally performs her job efficiently and prioritizes her work well.

Well alrighty. Excellent, thank you for noticing.

Green is an overall solid performer. She has the ability to do excellent work, and continues to improve. She needs to develop more passion and enthusiasm for the work.

Soooo... I'm not working up to my potential? Yeah. Here's the thing. I DON'T have passion for the kind of law I do. It's a boring subset of a boring kind of law. Even more boring than the regular boring practice areas. So it's hard to be passionnate about it. Especially because I don't understand most of it.

When I first started working in a law firm, I had a boss who was totally happy to answer any question I had. She encouraged me to read every single document in a file, all her books, everything in the office. After a while I learned the secret to understanding what's going on in any case: read the Complaint. The Complaint will tell you what the major issue is.

But with the area I work in now, there are rarely any Complaints filed. And often I don't know what cases my bosses are working on until I'm putting their time in. In fact, I get most of my information about cases from the timesheets. "Prepare and revise case management statement." Ahhh, well this tells me a case management hearing must be coming up soon. Great. Except, not really, because I still don't know what the case is about! I mean, I know what it MUST be about, because it's in my department, but I don't know the details of who's angry at whom, and for what.

Really, I need my attorneys to sit me down and give me two minute summaries on each case we're working on. Before you roll your eyes and start cursing me out, I know. I know I'm supposed to be able to figure this shit out on my own. Welcome to my learning disabilities, where I can't read a paragraph and tell you what the paragraph is about in one sentence. My reading comprehension SUCKS. I'm not saying those two minute summaries are what the lawyers should be giving me. I'm saying it's what I need in order to understand, and then, give a shit. Hopefully. Some of this stuff is frightfully dull, to be honest.

Sometimes, I AM kind of enthusiastic about what I'm doing. But I keep that toned down, because I know I don't fully understand what's going on, and I don't want to blurt out something stupid. I figure it's best to keep my mouth shut in those situations.

So that's my review from Tuna. I wish I could find my review from Nice Partner. His opinion carries a lot of weight since he's who I work with most frequently. I assume he would say that I'm pleasant to work with but make too many stupid mistakes and should pay greater attention to detail, while also keeping track of the bigger picture. And he'd be right. I am disgusted by all the mistakes I make, and how often I forget what he says to me. It's frustrating that I can't do better. Frustrating that I have to console myself with the realization that for me, it's impressive to have made it in one law firm for over a year now.

At least I get to go to work tomorrow.

Bitch

Late this afternoon, Cowboy called the office from his car to speak with Tuna. He often does this. Tuna then poked his head out of his office, and wildly gestured to me. It's only because I'm such an experienced legal secretary that I understand Tuna was trying to say, "Is LEL at her desk? Cowboy wants to speak with her."

I shook my head no, and Tuna went back into his office. Four seconds later my phone was ringing. Tuna had transferred Cowboy to my line. Turns out Cowboy just wanted me to put in some time today. No problem. But, if LEL comes back soon, have her do it, and get the client/matter number from her. Sure thing. Cowboy earns over $450 per hour. You'd think it would be logical to assume anyone who earns that much money must be smart. Yet he actually asked me, "How long is it from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.?" When I told him it was ten hours, he told me to put in 9.9 hours. No problem. We schmoozed (Cowboy likes to schmooze), and then hung up.

Just then LEL came back. "Oh great, L?"

Let me just pause here to tell you that although I hate LEL with passion, I am always professional when I deal with her at work. Except when I laugh at her for spilling her sodas. Which I try not to do more than once a week. Okay, twice. I'm even assertively nice. Just this morning I saw a nickel on the floor and picked it up and asked LEL if she'd dropped it. She had, and she took it from me, never saying thank you.

She is standing across from my desk, and when I say her name LEL turns towards me, rolls her eyes, and puts her most disgusted look on her face as she glares at me and says in a phony sing-song voice, "Yes?" I'll give her credit for this - the woman can give a nasty look like few people I know. It's not quite the Glare of Death, but it can take my breath away.

Well! Two can play at this game. I quickly plaster a look of surprise, confusion and hurt on my face while I blink innocently.

LEL realizes her mistake, shifts her stance, puts her hands on her hips, and a nervous giggle escapes. Clearly she's trying to pretend she was kidding when she looked at me disgustedly. Clearly I don't buy it.

I do a bit more innocent blinking while I let her know Cowboy gave me time for today but said I should ask her for the client/matter number. She tells me I better just forward the information to her so she can check it before closing the time.

Yeah, because I routinely make mistakes when I put in time? Whatever, bitch. She reviews the time, and tells me I didn't capitalize something. Firstly, it was a adjective, not a proper noun. You do not capitalize "court" in the term "court documents." Secondly, when the bills print out, every single letter is capitalized, so it doesn't matter. Especially since Cowboy never reviews his time until it's printed out.

It's dealing with shit like this all day long that make me dream of repeatedly smashing people's heads with frying pans.

Jump

Today I went to see a movie (documentary) about people who jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.

There were interviews with people who'd either known or seen those who jumped. One interview was with a guy who'd jumped and survived. He said the seconds his hands left the railing he felt he'd made a mistake, and he wanted to live. It makes people wonder if everyone who tries to kill themselves doesn't really want to die, and just really wants to be noticed more, or differently.

There was one man whose sister had jumped to her death who was in complete denial. He's a very religious guy, and couldn't handle the thought of his sister killing herself. He said that maybe someone had pushed her, or talked her into it or something. I felt sad for him. Sometimes denial is a coping mechanism. But sometimes it's just a way of avoiding reality.

I've wanted to walk across the bridge since moving here, and finding out it's something people routinely do. Not only are there sidewalks, but you're pretty safe from the cars driving over the bridge too. I wouldn't worry about being hit by a car any more than I would walking along the streets through the city.

What did surprise me is how easy it is to jump off the bridge. Apparently you can just climb over the railing, there's a little ledge, and then you can jump. In 2004, 24 people jumped off the bridge. It seemed like that was an average year. At first I was surprised - why hasn't something been done to make it harder to climb over and jump? But here's the thing. Just like I believe anyone who wants one should be able to have an abortion, I believe almost anyone should be able to kill themselves. If you want to die, then really, unless you're a parent of someone 25 or younger (give or take), I think it's just fine to kill yourself. Maybe whoever is in charge of the bridge railing figures if people want to die badly enough, then okay.

I cannot imagine what it's like for the Coast Guard - to think they're going to rescue some seals, some guys surfing, but to have to put on a hazmat suit and go pull a dead person out of the water one day.

That Sure Came Back To Me Quickly

This morning I was coming back from Trader Joe's, and walked into my apartment building with several heavy bags. As I walked through the lobby towards the elevator, there was an old woman trying to push an even older woman in a wheelchair through the door.

I asked if they needed help, put my bags down, and ran over to hold the door open.

After that I gathered my bags back up and continued towards the elevator. A man wearing capri green sweatpants with elastic ankles exited (I just report the news, I don't judge the fashion choices) the elevator, saw me, and held it for me as I crossed the lobby towards him.

Not As Popular As I Appear

When I lived in New York, as I'd drive through the streets, I'd always look at each person I passed, in case I knew them. Between both my high schools, camp, there was always a good chance I'd know people. When I went to jury duty, I'd run into people I knew.

Then I moved to Florida. I knew nobody except my grandpa. In four years of living in Florida, I ran into someone I knew once.

So I got in the habit of not bothering to really look at people. I mean, I look enough to not bang into people when I walk down the street, but other than that, not so much.

But I think it may be time to switch back to paying attention. Since moving here I've run into friends at the park and at Safeway.

Today was a banner day with THREE run-ins.

1. While walking to work (late, whoops!) someone behind me yelled, "Green!" I turn around, and there's a couple of relatives!

2. I walked out of my office to go grab some lunch, and as I crossed the street, I again heard, "Hey, Green!" A friend of mine was waiting on the curb for her boyfriend to pick her up. SO I waited with her for a few minutes while we chatted.

3. Then, while I was standing in line at the drugstore, I got a tap on the shoulder. When I turned around, I found an attorney I work with smiling at me.

This is not a usual thing for me, but I guess I should start paying attention more often.
Most days are certainly not like this.

My Parents Would Be So Proud

Hey Attorneys! Did you know you don't have to actually show up live and in-person for your court appearances? (Wow, I sound like a bad commercial.) That's right, for a (sometimes) small (depending on how soon the court appearance is and which county it's in) fee (you can charge it to the client) you can appear telephonically at many of your court appearances.

Nice Partner does it all the time. He's can't be bothered to fly out of town for a 15 minute hearing, so he appears from the comfort of his office, via telephone, while practicing his golf swing, or balancing on his balance board. Clients don't mind paying for this, because it costs them less than if he'd spent all that time traveling back and forth for the hearing.

Our accounting lady asked that we give her a copy of the confirmation e-mail for the telephonic appearance, and that we write the client number on it. So for the last couple of months, I've been printing out one extra confirmation, writing the client number on top, and routing it to her.

When I first started working here I was told she's a stickler for rules. I figured I should make sure to be on her good side, especially since when I started, I worked for Cowboy, and he was routinely late with his billing, and always wanting favors.

Today Accounting Lady walked by and said to me, "You're the only one who follows instructions."

Then she walked up to Loose Earlobe Lady, and chastised her for not doing what I do. She even went so far as to tell her "Green is the only one who follows instructions and does this." LEL was flustered, both at being called out on not having done something, and for being compared unfavorably to me, who she hates. "Oh, well Baby Attorney didn't tell me" is all she could thing to sputter out in her defense.

Accounting Lady takes no shit. "You're supposed to find out. It's your job to be proactive. You set up the telephonic appearance for Baby, didn't you? Then you MUST have known about it."

I kept my mouth shut. I very well remember the day LEL set up the Tele-court, because she yapped around all morning talking about it to everyone, trying to find out from six different people how it's done, even though you can just call them and they'll walk you through it. And she's loud, so it's not even like I was trying to listen in. You can't help but overhear her.

But that's not the point. The point is that my parents would be proud and relieved to know that finally, after all those years of frustration, somebody thinks I follow directions. Though I'm sure that on some level, they're sad they aren't getting the fruits of their labor.

What the Hell, George?!

Really, George, what are you thinking? Is your logic that since you know there's no third term, you want to go for broke and put as many measures in place as possible that will mean the next President has to undo even MORE of your damage before starting on their own list of ways they want to fix the country?

Way to go. Fuck you very much for this one.

Disengaged

A good friend of mine lives out in the middle of nowhere. She has two little boys, and although very rich in love, not so rich in money. A while ago, I got mail from Old Navy, talking about their latest promotion where anything you could fit in the bag they sent would be 20% off. I told my friend about it, and we agreed that I would buy some winter clothes from Old Navy for her sons, since there's no Old Navy near her.

She sent me a list of what they needed, their sizes, and a budget. Off I went shopping, checking clearance items first. Came in under budget, but needed a box to send the clothes to her.

Today at work I picked up a box from the copy room to take home. Tuna asked what I needed it for, and I explained what my friend and I are doing. He suggested I stop off at a fancy boutique and pick up a couple of extra things, as a surprise for my friend.

When Tuna first made this suggestion I thought he meant that I should spend my own money. I explained that she was sending me money for the clothes I was getting - I just laid the money out for her. Tuna said, "Aww, just toss a couple of things in there. Once she sees how nice they are, she won't mind spending the extra money."

HELLO?! Now, I know my friend. And sure, she likes nice things, who doesn't? However. You do NOT do that to someone who is watching their budget!

I like Tuna a lot. But. Maybe this attitude is why the very rich are so often not helping the very poor in ways that would actually help them - there's this real disconnect on how lower income people have to live.

The Darkness Is Just. SO. VERY. Dark.

Ever since the time change I've been a bit depressed. Too depressed to do the Things I Do To Fight Depression. Because I'm too depressed.

Is it just me, or last year, wasn't it light out until 6 p.m., and now it's dark by 5:30 p.m.? I certainly didn't agree to this. Staying light out until 6 p.m. in the wintertime is one of the very few things I miss about Florida. The other thing I miss about Florida is my grandpa.

I won't be moving to Hawaii or Arizona any time in the near future (though if I had to pick one it'd be Arizona for the hair factor, no contest), so I must find some way of dealing with this instead of trying to pretend it's not happening and not affecting me.

This afternoon I was toying with the idea of asking if I could change my work hours - come in a half hour earlier and leave a half hour earlier during the winter. I don't think the guys I work with would mind, and I suppose I could make the argument that a happier worker is a more effective worker, and therefore this change would benefit the firm.

But really, do I want to have to drag myself to work a half hour earlier each day? I already have such a hard time getting here as it is, should I really make it harder on myself? And, do I really want to be telling work people that I'm depressed?

Can I just suck it up and deal, like the rest of the country does? Yeah, I can. But should I have to? This is California, where everyone's unofficial motto seems to be "Do What Makes YOU Happy." Maybe it's time to get behind that sentiment.

I know that half hour of sunlight will give me just enough of a push. Just enough to get me back to who I was in the summertime, rushing around to the library, going for walks, running errands instead of saving them all for the weekends, and doing life in general. Instead of who I am now, someone who internally sighs heavily any time someone wants to do anything after work, someone who spends all afternoon wanting to rush home after work and get into bed wearing flannel pajamas.

When I was officially depressed, back in the 80's and 90's (and 70's but I didn't know it yet), I hated the feeling that people walked on eggshells with me. Of course I also hated that sometimes I needed them to, but such is the life of a depressed person. Do I want to risk having my work people treat me carefully, worried about making suicide jokes in my presence? No. I have a very dark sense of humor, and have always like a good suicide joke. I like not being treated too carefully. Not having people search my face to see if I've twisted something they've said into something ugly that hurts my feelings. I like people thinking I can take a joke.

Maybe I should ask if I can try it for a week, to see if it makes a difference. Maybe I should ask if I can try it next week, when Nice Partner won't be in the office much anyway, and if I'm unable to get into the office on time, nobody will notice because it's Thanksgiving.

But first I need to figure out how to word it all, to make myself seem depressed enough that I need this, but not so depressed they need to treat me differently.

Douchebag **

Arrived at work, and realized three new people were starting. Two lateral attorneys (who only graduated two years ago, so they're practically baby attorneys) and the secretary taking over for Drunk Granny. There was a lot of noise and hyper shit going on.

You'd think what with my constant early morning waking up I'd be a morning person, but I'm not. I don't talk in the mornings. I can't be chipper and pleasant in the mornings. LEL is a morning person. The file clerk I can't stand is a morning person. Everything was WAY too loud. You may think I'm being over-sensitive and should just suck it up, but:

A. This is my blog and where I go to complain, and
B. LEL is SO loud that if you were in Penn Station near the LIRR board that says what tracks the trains are leaving from, and she were buying tickets, you could hear her voice even if it were rush hour. Okay, now for the SF people: LEL is SO loud that if you were standing in the middle of the actual square in Union Square and LEL was standing outside of Macy's talking, if it weren't for all the foliage, you'd be able to hear her voice even with all the tourists. Okay, my two Boston readers - LEL is SO loud that if you were standing at the Gap on one Comm Ave. corner and LEL were at the next Gap over, you'd be able to hear her. In case anyone from LA is... oh fuck it. She's loud, okay? Just accept it.

Not only did we have all these new people to fuss over, but there was the potluck. Luckily I remembered to bring my pumpkin bread to work. As a member of the Social Committee (I still haven't gotten over the irony of my being a member), it was up to me to encourage people to sign up either to bring food or give money. My idea of doing this was to walk up to people and say, "Hey, are you participating in the potluck on Monday?" They usually gave me a blank stare, at which point I reminded them of the e-mail they'd gotten and would ask if they'd like to give in money or bring food they could either buy or make. If the person said they couldn't participate, I said, "Okay, maybe next year" or "Okay, but if you find yourself free at lunch time, come to the conference room because you can always give money at the door." There was no hard sell. There was no guilt-tripping involved. I don't want people to see me coming and duck in an effort to avoid me.

Apparently not all members of the social committee shared my sentiment about recruiting people for the potluck. People were supposed to be able to bring in whatever they wanted. If you want to cook chicken kiev for 50, who are we to stand in your way? If you want to bring in a bottle of chocolate syrup, that's fine - someone will find a use for it. But it came to my attention that other SC members were TELLING some people what they had to bring. "You! You'll cook rice for 100!" That's bullshit. Not only because they said that to one of the poorest people working at the firm, but because the whole point is that everyone brings what they want.

I was upset on behalf of the people pushed into bringing specific things, and embarrassed to be a member of a committee that had other members walking around with a sheet listing everyone who'd given money, pushing more people to give. Granted, the majority of these people are attorneys, and you'd think attorneys can't be talking into things if they don't want to be. But still. It's the principle.

Now let's talk about the potluck. I hate shit like this. Not only because I know some of the grandmas who cooked things don't wash their hands after using the bathroom, but some of them have what I consider unhealthy relationships with their cats, and I imagine them letting the cats walk on kitchen counters, shedding into the food. Also, I hate big groups. Introvert is my middle name.

But people always say that I should go to these things, they'll be fun, I'll have a nice time, I should try a new food, etc. You know what? These people do not know me, and they should shut the fuck up because they are wrong.

To be fair, I did wind up sandwiched in line between LEL and the loud file clerk. Someone I liked was two people ahead of me, and I asked her what something was. The loud file clerk launched into this (loud) speech about how I (and I don't think she meant me specifically, but people in general, and just had no idea how ridiculous her advice was when applied to me) need to try new things, and just explore and I can't go through life always being careful, etc. Had she not been so loud, I'd have totally tuned her out.

I took a bit of rice (since it looked plain) and a bit of turkey (since I could identify it). I sat down at a table, and tasted the turkey. It was dry. It was disgusting. It was like thick deli turkey meat. That was dry. Rice was just fine (and I know who cooked it). When Loud File Clerk sat down at my table, I got up and left. I was in there for just under five minutes.

Yesterday I e-mailed with someone who talked about her karma being on auto-pilot. As I was thinking about that, I looked down the hallway at the Head Secretary training the new secretary. I walked over and asked Head (HEAD! MOVE!*) if I could bring her a drink. Her jaw dropped, so I explained that I remember training people and how my throat would always be hoarse at the end of the day from talking so much. She wanted water with lemon, and the new secretary wanted ice water (I think we're going to be friends).

It wasn't until I got to the kitchen that I realized I wouldn't be able to carry their drinks and mine all at the same time without spilling anything, but another attorney walked in and was willing to help me carry everything out. I'll never be a waitress...

*First one to name the movie gets a prize.
**I chose this title because I heard a guy greet another guy this way and my first thought was "That's such an ugly thing to be saying out in public, especially in a business district by a guy dressed in a suit" and my second thought was "Eh, it's a douchebag kind of day."

Competition

I am a huge fan of healthy competition. In 7th, 8th and 9th grade, I had a very healthy competition going with a boy who was in my math class each year. We weren't friends, but we'd race to finish our homework first, and help each other when the other one got stuck. It was a great feeling. We both "won." Although I got a math award in 9th grade and he didn't, we both learned three years of math, and that's what mattered.

Last night I babysat for my friend's daughters. Before leaving, my friend told me the kids could have cake if they were well-behaved. We wound up sitting at the dining room table, while they ate cake and drank milk. The older daughter finished her cake first, and started lording it over the younger one. I asked her to bring her plate into the kitchen, and the younger one looked at me with worry; she was losing a race she didn't even know she'd entered. "You don't compete with food. It's not a competition." She smiled at me, and spent the next ten minutes taking the tiniest bites of cake you could possibly imagine.

Next week my law firm is having a potluck and everyone was encouraged to bring something. If they didn't want to bring anything in, they could just donate $10 instead. Attorneys are important people, who don't have time to cook for work. They're all just giving money. Except one baby attorney who is bringing some sort of fancy salad. But he's new, he'll learn.

Everyone kept asking what I'm making. Pumpkin bread. "Oh, are you making it or buying it?" When I'd answer making it, people would seem ashamed to admit they're "just" giving money. Why is everything a competition? Perhaps if I'd competed more I would be an attorney instead of a legal secretary?? Nope, I don't think so.

Competition for the purpose of improvement is great. I love the idea of competing against your best. But competition for the purpose of walking around thinking you're better than someone else because you baked and they took the easy way out by forking over cash is stupid, and kind of grosses me out.

How Strong Is It?

Apparently, my New York accent is so strong that when I told Nice Partner I was going to lunch today, his Mmidwest ears actually couldn't understand what I said.

I really need to make enunciating my forte.

Nothing Tastes As Good As Thin Feels**

And nothing makes you feel more stupid than having someone say what they're telling you is obviously way beneath you, yet everything they say completely actually confuses you.

People don't "get" the learning disabilities thing. When I mention it, aside from silence, the most common responses I get are "So you're dyslexic?" (I swear, I just typed that dsylexic - oh, the irony!) and "Yeah, my cousin is ADD, do you take Ritalin?"

To answer those questions, while I am a bit dyslexic, I'm hyper aware of it, and though I do make mistakes, I usually catch and correct them. Just a few days ago I gave my dad directions and the next day sent another e-mail apologizing, saying that the store was actually to the left of Publix, not the right, as I'd initially told him. So dyslexia did not show up on the last test I took.

I was never diagnosed as having ADD, and no, I have never taken Ritalin. Years ago, my mother said she would never give me Ritalin because one of the side effects was that is supresses growth. Now I'm going to get 450 comments from people telling me how tall they are and that they took Ritalin for eight years. Good for you, glad it helped, it's not for me. Even if that weren't one of the side effects, you're not supposed to take Ritalin if you have depression, which I do, and always have, had. So no Ritalin for me.

The easiest way for me to describe how my learning disabilities affect me, in a way you'll understand, is like this: Imagine you're one of those people who passed high school chemistry by cheating off the smart kid in front of you, and that you have no clue what quantum physics is. You don't know why the sky is blue, why volcanoes erupt, and you barely understand what a meniscus is, and had no idea that it's two different things.

You only speak and understand English. Now go to Madrid, and take a class in advanced biochemistry.

Every so often you hear a word that you understand, and you get excited, but then deflate, realizing it just means "yes" and you have no clue what the yes is in response to. Or you hear another word, like pH, and you think it has something to do with smell, or levels of smell, or levels of something, and you know it has to do with science. But after that point, you're lost. Then you start wondering where you've heard of pH, and realize it's in relation to deodorant commercials. This makes you wonder if you remembered to put deodorant on. You realize with relief that you did. Then you remember that the other thing you often forget is your watch, and you check your wrist. Remembered that too. Then you check the time. Then you calculate how much longer you'll have to be sitting there. Then you think of the last time you were this bored.

Then you realize you're there to learn and should pay attention, and you spend two minutes trying to remember what you were originally trying to figure out. Oh yes, pH! You rack your brain for anything you know about deodorant that will help you understand what is being discussed. Nothing. You try to figure out what they're talking about now.

This is pretty much what formal learning is like for me. I have a very hard time paying attention to things I can't understand. Sometimes I know words, but not what they mean. Other times I know concepts, but not words that define those concepts.

At a friend's house the other night, politics kept being discussed. I went in and out of the conversation, as I understood. People would reference something, laugh, and start discussing it. I didn't understand what they were referencing, and therefore didn't get the joke, but once they were discussing, I could discuss too.

I have these relatives who are very warm and loving. But they're also very well-traveled, and know a lot of stuff about stuff. They'll say things like, "But you know how the traffic is in Germany, especially with what's going on now" and I've never been to Germany, and no, I don't know what's going on there now.*

It's not just a few times in a conversation, but for the entire duration of it. I have to search for things I understand. It's frustrating, exhausting, and depressing.

The other day at work there was a mandatory meeting for secretaries about California Court Structure. The person leading the lecture was a partner at our firm. I do not know the court structure and really would have welcomed learning it. I'm not one of those people who can teach herself things. I've tried, I always fail. Supposedly, it's good to know things about yourself.

Anyway. He talked, I listened, I took notes. I even asked intelligent questions. My parents would not be surprised to know I asked questions like this, or to hear that I didn't understand the answers given to my questions. At one point, he was talking about the difference between state and federal court. As he starts talking, I'm thinking, "Now what does federal mean again? State? Wait, it can't mean state - if it meant the same thing, there wouldn't be differences. It must mean for the whole country. Is that right? Shit, I don't know. SHIT, I'm missing everything he's saying! Fuck, I'm so lost."

It was a waste of my time. He taught way above my level of understanding. He even said he was giving us an entire semester of law school (Con Law) crammed into two hours. Dude, there's a reason I didn't go to law school. I'M TOO STUPID FOR IT! SOOOO frustrating.

And this happens to me ALL. DAY. LONG. Every day. I never get a day off from being too stupid to understand what's going on around me. Because I'm smart, I can hide it in front of other people for the most part. I ignore it. I actually do have this burning desire to learn stuff, and have to shove it down within myself and ignore it most of the time, because learning is so hard.

If I ask you something one day, the absolute worst thing you say can is, "Oh my god, how can you NOT know that?! I learned that in third grade!" Yeah, well, I didn't learn much of anything in third grade, other than just because your teacher is pretty, it doesn't mean she'll be nice. The other one that burns me is, "If you're going to ask that, I don't even know where to start with you." Start at the beginning, you asshole.

I once asked a friend why a historically popular place in San Francisco hadn't been restored so people could use it now, and she was disgusted with my question. Not only didn't I get my question answered, but I still don't know what was so offensive about asking it. Open-minded, my ass.

**I don't really believe this.
*There's nothing going on with the traffic in Germany, you know - as far as I know (which isn't far).

Actually, Now That I Think About It....

Yesterday I was looking at Nice Partner's calendar to see what's going on this week. I noticed that on Thursday it says "Yogurt's Annual Review Due."

WHAT?! So of course with my pessimistic attitude (combined with my most recent screwup last month of very poorly arranging a multi-county deposition) I'm confident that Nice Partner will fill out the review form, look it over, and then think to himself, "Wow, Green REALLY sucks! I'm a partner - why am I putting up with this shit? Gay HR Guy should get me someone better right away." And I'll be fired on Friday.

I feel like I should be looking for a new job.

What I'm Wondering...

Will she manage to get married again before turning 25*? Because to be on your third husband by the time you're 25 ... I mean, nothing says white trash like that does.

Since her birthday is in December, obviously the answer is no. But still.

She Walked On, and Didn't Look Back

At one point on my way home from work yesterday, I was standing next to a homeless man while waiting for a light to change. There was a girl behind us on her cell phone.

The homeless man asked me if he could have some money for a sandwich. "No, sorry." Sometimes I will give food, but I almost never give money.

The man turned to the other girl. "Excuse me. Do you think you could spare some money so I can get a sandwich?"

She smirked. "I doubt it." The light changed. As I started to cross the street, I heard her on her cell phone saying, "Oh my god this guy just asked me for money ... I KNOW! Can you believe it? Anyway..."

It almost made me go back and give him money, to make up for her.

Wrong, Wrong, Wrong

I've never had an abortion. I don't have kids. Right now, I have no immediate plans to have any kids. Prop 85 doesn't really affect me. Except ... I just REALLY give a shit about this one. I feel like it's a step towards making abortion illegal. I feel like it takes control of a person's body away from them. I feel like it's wrong.

It's far worse to force a girl to carry a pregnancy to term and make her to decide between raising a child she's not mature enough to parent or giving up a baby for adoption, than it would be to hinder her opportunity to terminate a pregnancy.

I don't understand how people can say that teenagers under 18 are not mature enough to decide about their own bodies when it comes to abortions, since these people imply that the same teenagers ARE therefore mature enough to decide between the only other two options left.

So I'll be voting No to 85 next week. I hope you will be too. I know one other person who is.

Layers Upon Layers

I didn't really have friends growing up - I think I've mentioned that before. Now I do, and for the most part, I think I do pretty well at it. At being a friend back to my friends, and at having friends in general.

Sometimes I stumble with this whole having friends thing. And you know what my friends do? They just smile and wave it off. Apparently it's okay to not be a perfect friend. It's okay to be human.

Even after all this time of having friends, sometimes they surprise me. A friend invited me over for dinner, and knowing of the food issues I hate having, told me what she's planning to make and asked if that's okay. These things touch me. The little things that are so huge.

Another friend told me months ago she would do something for me if I ever wanted. She casually tossed it out, and I took it as an empty offer. But no, turns out she was serious and really meant it. You can take friends up on offers. Who knew?!

Tuna and I are becoming friends, I think. It feels a bit awkward to me. He's married, he's technically one of my (still just) three bosses, and let's be honest here - he's smarter than I am, if you measure smarts by academics, which most of the world I live in does. And yet, something good happened at work today and he called me just so we could be in awe about it together.

A while ago I was having a hard time. One of my friends told me she cleared her calendar for the days she knew would be most difficult for me. All so she could do whatever would help me most. She CLEARED HER CALENDAR. For ME. I have never heard of such a thing.

You must need a lot of self confidence to be a friend. Because I've noticed that when I was going through that rough patch a few friends offered to get together with me. Basically what they were saying was, "I see you need something, so let me offer up myself to you because I think that may help you feel better." And you know what? It totally works.

Today I'm just amazed by this whole friend thing. Hard to believe I went so long without having this. I hope it lasts forever. I hope I'm as good a friend to them as they are to me. I hope I never get jaded and stop appreciating these things.

Early Morning

- I watch bad tv. Sometimes I like bad tv. Other times I don't even realize I've sunk to such a low as to be watching Kevin Federline performing on Tyra Banks.

- Steamroller came home at 3:20 a.m., which is what woke me up. Why is she incapable of closing the front door quietly? Speaking of things she can't do, why can't she replace paper towels or use Clorox Wipes to clean up her messes?

- Every day this week, LEL has done something to piss me off. Yesterday she asked me to approach her by standing in front of her pony wall as opposed to next to her. This means I will have to walk further, and inconvenience myself in order to make her happy. I don't know how to convey just how cold her "request" was. She disgusts me. Obviously I will do what she wants. Heaven forbid I stand too close to her (not that I want to) and she go running to HR to say I invade her personal space.

- LEL is old, and sometimes I wish she'd just die so I wouldn't have to work next to her anymore. A coworker suggested I try the California way of thinking, and hope that instead of dying, LEL win the lottery and retire. Whatever, I just want her to go away. I wonder what she'll do to annoy me today. Fuck you, my attitude sucks - it's 5:41 a.m. and I've been up over two hours. I can have any damn attitude I want to.

- This whole blogging thing is weird sometimes. I think about closing up shop at least once every couple of weeks.

- If doubting your sanity is a sign that you're sane, is being disgusted by stupidity a sign that you're smart?

- Although I bought a jacket last night for the expected rain, I am not considering it my real rain jacket. Instead, it's The Jacket I Bought So I'll Have Something While I Look For a Real One I'll Actually Like.

Laguna Clones

I had Laguna Beach on tonight and have to say, the girls on that show really disgust me.

Cami and Kyndra have the exact same overnight bags, and two other girls (who I didn't recognize but were obviously on the show) had the same exact sunglasses.