Christmas Eve rage replaced by a certain amount of shamefacedness. Oh lordy, lordy. I guess I do have a temper.

About to set off for the airport. The joys of holiday travel await!

GRINCH, THY NAME IS hk

This is why I hate Christmas.

Or more accurately, this is why I hate spending time with my family.

I am not even in Seattle yet, and they're already making me crazy. And yeah, yeah, I know that I can't change THEM, that I have to change my reactions to them; I also know that if my aunt and uncle want to be enablers for my bitter, angry mother, then I can't stop them -- I know these things, and yet they DRIVE. ME. UP. THE. WALL.

This time, it's going somewhere for Christmas. "Why, hk!" you may say, "you're already going somewhere for the jolliest of holidays! You're heading to Seattle!" Indeed I am. But my mother wants to go somewhere else than my aunt and uncle's house -- she wants to go the beach. Yes, the BEACH. In DECEMBER. Which requires a HOTEL. Which my UNCLE, who doesn't really want to go, will pay for. And this is AFTER I told them -- I've done so much traveling this term, I'm sick of staying in hotels, why don't we go on day trips so I can stay in one place for a while? And after they AGREED, yeah, we don't sleep well in hotels, and there's not much to do at the beach in the winter anyway -- yeah, day trips! We'll do day trips!

What the FUCK is going on? Can't they hold out against my mother ONE GODDAMN TIME? Especially when I specifically told them that I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE BEACH? My mother is such a fucking selfish brat. She doesn't care that my aunt -- her SISTER! -- and uncle don't want to go, she just wants someone to pay for her to get out of town. She doesn't care that my uncle, who has been nothing but generous to her -- computer, car, cell phone, spending money all out of his pocket for more than a year -- will have to again foot the bill for her whims. The fucking beach in fucking December? What the hell is that?

And my aunt and uncle! Fucking enablers -- totally unable to stand up for themselves, allowing her to run over them in complete disregard of their feelings -- like a dog being whipped for something he didn't do, and looking apologetically at his master while he's being beaten. What the fuck is wrong with them? This behavior is bad for them, bad for her, bad for everyone. And no matter how much I talk to them, how much I try to subtlely and unsubtlely try to encourage them to do for themselves, to stand up for what they want because it's twice as valid as what she wants -- no matter what, they're always, always going to spend themselves emotionally and physically and financially so that my mother can get what she wants.

Jesus GOD.

(10 minutes later)

CHRIST.

So I make the monumentally stupid mistake of calling my uncle back and asking why they decided to go when we'd agreed not to go a week ago. I yelled at my mother (who simply switched me back to my uncle) and my uncle (who switched me to my mother when I first started raising my voice and then started placating me as if I were 5 years old: "okay, okay, we'll fix it, we'll cancel, we don't have to go").

I outright told my uncle, "I don't want mom to railroad you into doing something." And a minute later, my mother says, "Actually, it's for you. To get out of the house."

FUCK. YOU. ALL.

I apologized to my uncle for yelling. He changed the subject to the busy season at airports, and resorted to his usual humor tactics ("I'm not dressing up as Santa to come greet you at the airport!").

I apologized to my mother. She said, "For what?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not upset."

"OKAY. FINE. Then maybe it's because I feel I shouldn't have yelled, so I'm saying sorry and it's for ME."

"Yeah, you have been yelling a lot recently at adults. Me, uncle, auntie -- why?"

"Because --"

"And not just you, bigbro too, you've been yelling a lot lately at adults. Why?"

I took a deep breath. "Because the adults have been acting like children lately," I informed her.

There was a pause, and then my mother laughed. Derisively? Hurt? Who the fuck knows?

"Okay, fine. See you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye, mom."

Lovely. Now I've ticked off my mother, made my uncle feel bad, and for what? For the infantile pleasure of not giving my mother what she wanted? Because I can't stand to see selfish children rewarded? And at what price? The goodwill of the visit?

Holiness of Holy, please let me not become unglued and yell at my family again this week. And please let me accept the things I can never EVER change (despite how much they maketh me veritably boil inside with rage) and not go around biting people's heads off when they can't help it. And please let my mother not sulk the entire week and please let my aunt and uncle not tiptoe around her -- oh wait. That's getting into things we can't change? Shit. Well, just please let me keep my temper (which I SWEAR is usually quite even). I'd appreciate it. Love ya lots, hk.

Feeling a little blue, hence the color and format change to the blog. Also feeling a little foolish -- due to bad planning and general grinchiness (as in "Christmas? Is that, like, a holiday or something? Fffffft!"), I didn't get the research journals I'd planned to bring home with me, or get the gifts that I'd planned on buying for family members, or get to the gym, because normal people? They take off a couple days before Christmas, and everything SHUTS DOWN. Well, I guess this way I can't do any work over the holiday.

Christmas is a weird time -- it presents itself as so twinkly and happy and warm and snuggly, but when you get down to it, it's a stressful, stressful time of gift-buying, family-visiting, and the distinct possibility of a lot of sadness. A couple days ago, I lamented the fact that I am now 30 years old and still with no one special with whom to spend the holiday season. Which -- whatever, right? I've got family and friends and a place to go to for the week, and that's more than many people have. But there's a lot of pressure on Christmas to be that sparkly, smiley time of love and snowflakes, and that's just asking for disappointment.

My Canadian doppelganger and her friend were in town briefly, from Wednesday night to Thursday mid-day, and it was a joyous few hours. I spent the rest of Thursday at Def and Stave's new house -- and a very beautiful first home it is! -- watching Project Runway, eating take-out, and doing laundry. It was quite nice.

Today I'd planned on getting a lot of errands done, forgetting completely that it's the Friday before Christmas. Thus -- the law school bookstore was closed, the gym was closed, and the libraries closed at noon. Damn Christmas. I managed to get the shopping done at a different store, and put a stack of research journals aside for when I get back, but -- well, whatever. At least all my clothes are laundered, right?

You never think you need people when you're busy. It's when it gets quiet that you start missing them. The campus is empty save for a few LLMs and a couple lingering students. It's a beautiful day outside -- in the high 40s, at least. I had lunch with the French King, who counseled cautious optimism in re: the Not-Gay Boyfriend. And now I really should go through all the paperwork from the recruiting season, get my finances in order, and organize my books and papers and files from this semester. It seems like a lonely thing to be doing, somehow.

As darkness creeps over Crimson City, so does it creep over this day -- if it could be called such a bright, lighted thing -- of my exam period, bringing to a close half of my law school career.

No need to talk about the exam -- it was awful, as all exams are, and especially law school ones. Just... done.

So I now have 7.5 hours to do this fucking take-home exam, and I WILL start at 9, which is in a few minutes, but before that, I had to say: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! and copy down here what I wrote to Joiner a minute ago:


Dear [Joiner]:

So I walked into the building at like 8:45 and saw Not-Gay BF walking down the hall way in front of me, and then I went into the room and he was the only one there, and he turned and saw me and smiled like he was glad to see me, and then he WAITED until I got my exam and we walked out of the room together and both agreed we weren't ready to take this exam and then he said he was going to look for an empty seminar room and smiled and said good luck and I said good luck and now I really, really have to stop this gushing and start this fucking exam.

Eeeeeeeee! (squeal of disturbingly extreme happiness)

Have a safe trip!

love,
your no-I'm-not-obsessed-why-do-you-ask? friend


It's fate, I tell ya. Fate amusing herself. (And me.) (Sometimes.) (Though now? Distraction Central when I should be concentrating on the extent that law and lawyers create continuity or change through history.) (Shit.)

Was it really only 3 days ago that I had my lunch with Not-Gay Boyfriend? I've gone through so many ups and downs about that since then that it seems like a million years.

It also seems like a million years since I started studying for finals, which has essentially been nonstop since Dec. 10. I guess that's not too long. You can put up with almost anything for 10 days, right? But I am pretty tired, and this damn take-home essay for evidence is showing the effect of a week and a half of 12 to 15-hour days in the library. Dear god, I just want it to be over.

And when the finals are over, the wait for January begins. January: the time Not-Gay Boyfriend suggested we "definitely get together again." As I plaintively said to Mr. Rocks and Joiner, "I think he's really cool, and I want him to like me." Infatuation is so damaging to one's ego.

Enough! Back to the accuracy of jury trials in the following cases:
(a) patent infringement with counterclaim asserting patent invalidity of an in-vitro test for allergy;
(b) criminal prosecution for assault by an estranged husband on his estranged wife arising out of an argument over possession of the keys to the family car;
(c) medical malpractice claim against an obstetrician alleging failure to adequately monitor fetal heartbeat resulting in still birth;
(d) products liability case against manufacturer of Vioxx asserting negligent failure to warn by P who suffered non-fatal heart attack after taking Vioxx for 6 months;
(e) personal injury case based on automobile accident on the corner of Wood and Vale Streets;
(f) civil antitrust complaint by small toothpick company against large wood product manufacturer alleging monopolization of the market for wood toothpicks.

(Now you know why I suffer.)

Crushed ... maybe.

Last night, after advisory phone calls to Double M ("it sounds like you're in love") and Mr. Rocks ("I don't see that there's any problem here -- he likes you"), I went to sleep feeling ... I don't even know. Unlike any feeling I've had as an adult.

So this morning, Joiner, in HER advisory capacity, wisely suggested I send an email if it would make me feel better, but otherwise put it away until January.

I wrote. A short little thing, saying I had a nice time, and that if he wanted to take a break from his multiple exams, I was around until Xmas, and if not, I'd see him next month. (Somehow, I managed to make a serious grammatical error in even this brief missive - chalk it up to nerves.)

2 hours later, he writes back that he too is glad we talked, he's looking forward to continuing the conversation, but that the week looks bad, family troubles are brewing, and we should definitely get together in January.

So. By the hug and the inquiries about January plans yesterday, I could take this response to mean that he really is busy and preoccupied with academic and personal issues, and means what he wrote about getting together next month because he is interested in me in some way.

Or. I could have read the whole thing wrong -- the awkward scheduling of lunch, stemming out of a happenstance chat that he never intended to be read as anything else but friendly; the inquiry about next month's plans, a product of polite interest and conversational efforts; the hug, an indication of ... friendliness? But why? And -- isn't that weird? Wouldn't that make you think someone is interested in maybe more than just friendship? And yet, when I signaled by my email, hey, let's ramp it up a little, I'm interested in you -- nuthin'.

Okay, not nothing, but definitely not what I hoped.

And I'm still only halfway through evidence! Bad grade, here comes hk.

After another hour on the phone with Mr. Rocks today ("Give me his number -- I'll call him." "What would you say to him?" "To say, 'Are you fucking with my friend? What the fuck is wrong with you? If you don't like her, stop fucking around! If you do like her, stop pussyfooting around!'" I love Mr. Rocks.), I wrote back to Not-Gay Boyfriend that I was sorry to hear of the family troubles, that the holidays are hard, and that I hoped things would get better. And that I looked forward to seeing him after the break.

It's what a normal person would write back, after all.

Lunch with Not-Gay Boyfriend

The giddiness has worn off, replaced by something infinitely more strange. I almost feel like crying, although I don’t know why. Lunch wasn’t spectacular, it was just … nice. But not nice in the way that you shrug off something and don’t think about it again. Nice in the way that you find something that interests you, and it feels slightly uncomfortable and awkward, but you want to find out more about it. It’s not a joyous, exuberant feeling, not the jump-up-and-down-while-giggling feeling, but something quieter and gentler.

We kind of just chatted about everything, ranging from his trying to learn music on his own to our lives before law school to my brush with hypnosis last week. He’s a very interesting fellow … it all sounds very banal, but underneath it lies a hope – at least on my part – about the possibility of finding a connection with someone.

It’s odd, because I had a crush on Not-Gay BF last year, and this year too (though pretty mild), and to suddenly be faced with reality rather than the fantasy, and have the reality be something other than disappointing or embarrassing – it’s disconcerting, to say the least.

When I walked into the place we’d agreed to meet, I saw him almost immediately, and I wasn’t disappointed, I didn’t think, god, why did I agree to do this? I saw him sitting there and thought, oh! He really is nice-looking. And when we greeted each other, I thought, oh! He really is very nice.

And during the lunch, it wasn’t the dear god, this isn’t going to work feeling I had with my lunch with Tadpole, or my drinks with the Bulgarian real estate agent last week. It had the feeling of promise.

To quote Double M, the whole thing had the slightly stilted, the slightly awkward feeling of two people who think they might like each other.

As we were walking back, he asked if I was going to be around for the winter term. And when we parted, he said the usual things – this was really nice, thank you, we should do it again sometime, you’ll be around for January, so maybe then. And then he held out his arm for a hug, which I didn’t expect.

Joiner thinks it’s “obvious that he really likes [you]” and is shy about it (and he describes himself as introverted and bookish). I don’t know. I think there is something there. I think. I hope.

Remembering, of course, that Hope was the demon left over in Pandora’s box.

All kinds of no goodness on the employment law final this morning. I spent too long on the first question trying to be thorough and so ran out of time and spent only 25 minutes on the third question (the first took me an hour and 15 minutes). To one part of the second question I just wrote that the same claims applied as in the first section, which was so obviously the wrong answer, I wanted to cry as I wrote it.

Oh well. I hope to get a B, a B would be good. I'm a little disappointed because I liked the class a lot. But I take solace in the fact that my property law professor last year, Uncle Joe, told us he got a B- in his first year property law class, and he's now the god of property (seriously, his book is used everywhere). So there's hope.

And in the dating news, I met Tadpole, the Brazilian grad student, today. Not a match. Sweet, geeky, sarcastic kid, who'll be great once he mellows out in about 5 years or so. But as I told Joiner, I want to meet someone who knows who he is. Which brings me to Not-Gay Boyfriend, who emailed tonight asking if we were still on for lunch tomorrow. Are we ever, Not-Gay Boyfriend! I'm still driving Joiner crazy with asking, "What if he has a wife and three kids in Peoria? What if he's not not-gay? What if he has a girlfriend?" And I'm still breaking out in inexplicable smiles. As Double M said to me last night, "You're really cheerful for someone in the middle of exams!" I told her the story of how this lunch came to be, and she laughed, "It has the slightly awkward and stilted feeling of two people who think they might like each other." Hee!

Of course, if it all turns out crappy tomorrow, I'll be crushed and won't be able to concentrate on studying for evidence (Tuesday) and legal history (Wednesday). Better get through as much as I can tonight, then.

It's six degrees out there! Or so weather.com tells me. Actually, it tells me that it feels like -4 out there, which makes me really not want to go out and take an exam. But I must. Sigh. I really liked this class (employment law), which makes me think I'm not going to do as well as I'd like in it.

Took it fairly easy yesterday, starting with some legal history reading and summarizing at noon. (I stopped having a block about it and actually read the past exams, realizing after I did so that I would have SOMEthing to write and that I did sort of understand the questions. Still not a philospher or big thinker or theorizer, but I believe I can get through the freaking exam.) I stopped around 5, went to dinner, then sat down to do some more employment law, but couldn't concentrate, and so gave up around 9. Life Coach Double M said that it was probably best to be rested and alert at the final rather than try to stuff in another hour of forced studying. So there.

After the final (oh, how burden-unshouldering it will be!), I have a coffee date with a Brazilian bio grad student (Tadpole). I must be nuts. Oh, and he's also 23. But whatever -- it's just coffee. I'll bring my legal history packet with me.

Okay, wish me luck on the final that's in an hour.

Am wondering if studying in the library was such a good idea, as I now feel exhausted and run-down and close to being sick. Damn people and their coughing and their viruses!

Managed to go through my outline again and get through one employment exam today, and now it's 8 o'clock and I haven't touched legal history. There's something about that class that I'm positively allergic to.

Got to the library at 10:15 this morning, and practically all the carrels on the second floor were full. Damn, people!

Yesterday was a big push in terms of studying employment law: in the library from 9 in the morning to 12:30 at night. Not sure I actually mastered the concepts, but that is what today is for.

Must first go through outline and create a much shorter, handier outline than what I have (currently at 62 pages, it's more of a treatise than an outline). Then will attack an old exam.

Then, this afternoon, legal history -- bane of my existence. I figured out that it's not so much the theory in that class that I hate, it's the philosophical approach to the theory and history in that class that I hate. Or something. It's weird, I can't quite put my finger on what I dislike about it, and I have the feeling that it would be instructive to know.

Oh well. Maybe I'll come upon it this afternoon.

Had a lovely pho dinner last night. I asked for a small bowl and received a large one by mistake, pointed it out and confessed I didn't think I could finish it, but then did, and it was mighty tasty. And they charged me for a small! Yay for small happinesses.

Oh, and in the everlasting, neverending saga of recruiting, I received a call from the UK firm yesterday: "We don't offer this to everyone, but to show you how flexible we are, we were looking at your resume and thought, maybe she'd like to go to NY, Hong Kong, AND London this summer! How about it?"

I thanked them for their flexibility, but said that it was really the firms I was torn between, and so really did want to split with the Large Passive Aggressive Firm in NY and the UK's London office. And later in the day, the UK firm called back and said that was fine.

I'll send my emails of final final acceptance today, and that will be -- finally -- that.

(Except that I wonder if I just shouldn't go to the Hong Kong office after all. But -- I must really stop.)

Into my 9th hour in this library chair, and getting mighty sick of it, especially after 12 hours in one yesterday. Eh. There's less stress around this exams period, with the familiarity of it all and the knowledge that I have a firm job pretty much in the kitty and the fact that my first one isn't til Thursday, but the nitty gritty of going through my reading notes and class notes hasn't changed.

I studied until 5 pm in the undergrad library yesterday, which was more airy and less stressful than the Crimson law library, though I actually didn't get much done there, having gone on a lunch date for a couple hours. If by "date" you mean a friendly getting-to-know-ya meal together, with little or no romance. At least, I think.

It was good, though, very comfortable, as if we'd known each other a long time already. You know sometimes when you meet a person and you immediately start treating each other like old friends? For some reason, you trust the other person and don't put them up to the usual ... tests, for lack of better word, for determining whether you can confide in them. It's the exact opposite thing I have with Mr. Destroyer, with whom I have an odd intimacy but little trust.

Squashman is a KA guy in my hall who was out of school for longer than I was before coming to law school, which made for an immediate feeling of comradeship. He takes photos (had an old manual Leica out at lunch, in fact), cooks a mean curry, and likes writing. All good. I hope we become friends.

And so the lunch date may not have been a date, but to correct for that, I now have a date with a tadpole in the bio grad program, Thursday after my exam. Thus -- the most social week ever. All while studying for exams! (And it didn't take too long, either.)

Now. Back to personality testing and the possible claims you can bring as an employee to avoid them.

The world is white.

I don't mean that in a metaphysical, critical race theory way -- I mean it's blindingly, chillingly, up-to-your-ankles, downed-power-lines, squirrels-as-fat-as-NY-rats-digging-for-underground-chow, buildings-blanketed-in-veils, bracingly, exhilaratingly white out there. The first nor'easter of the season.

As a non-commuting dilettante student, it's wonderful.

I had to return some library books to the undergrad library, and walked through troughs of snow to get there.

And because I'm ALMOST done with the summer decision, it looks like perfection. E-mailed 11 firms today, and am waiting to hear reactions to my proposal to split the summer (ha! summer!) from the remaining two.

Beautiful!

Dates: Ex Ante and Ex Poste

Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow! What is Christmas with noooooo snooooooow....?

Lots of snow coming down. Songs from "White Christmas." Sorry.

So I'm still ridiculously happy about the prospect of lunch with Not-Gay Boyfriend next week. MattSal, whom I called for the guy perspective on this, advised, "I wouldn't put labels on it. That just leads to expectations, which can be disappointed. But he definitely is interested in spending more time with you."

Hee! I jump up and down like a little kid.

As for the Bulgarian real estate agent -- I had a beer with him last night, and he is quite extraordinary: classic job-jumping, ladder-climbing, English-learning immigrant story. But I just wasn't interested, so I did a very grown-up thing: I told him so. And he seemed all right with it.

Although then we again sucked face in the parking lot for half an hour.

Whereupon he said, "I'm confused."

Which led to a discussion of NSA (no strings attached) relationships, and me saying that I thought it was a bad idea, since someone always gets hurt, and unfair to the person with more feelings.

Whereupon he argued, "But it's not unfair to me, because you've already told me that you're not interested."

Which was funny.

And so, he's going to call again. And I may not return his call. But it was all very warm and funny.

Christ, but when it rains it snows. I have what appears to be: (1) drinking date tonight with Bulgarian real estate agent, (2) lunch date on Saturday with a guy in my hall, and (3) a lunch date next Friday with my Not-Gay Boyfriend.

Whee!

So, I say "what appears to be" because while the drinking date is definitely a date, one can never really tell about these lunches. In this day and age of coed friendships, it's never quite clear what the intentions are. In my day, we didn't have these confusing multi-gendered re-lay-shun-ships! No sir, we didn't have friendships at all -- we had... we had rocks! And we liked 'em!

But seriously now, how do you interpret this: Not-Gay Boyfriend was a teaching assistant in one my classes last year. Great guy, passionate and dedicated to public service. We never had a conversation outside of discussing assignments. This year, he and I are in another class together. We never speak to each other, nor even acknowledge each other's existence. Then today, we discuss an article we'd read in last year's class, and he catches my eye and we both smile. And then after class, he comes over and chats and we almost go to lunch except that I have another lunch appointment. But we set another time for next week, and he emails, "It would be nice to catch up." Um, catch up on what? What secret relationship do we have here that I'm not aware of, such that we would have anything to catch up on?

I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. In fact, I ran to Joiner's room immediately afterwards and jumped up and down like a little kid, squealing, "Not-Gay Boyfriend asked me to lunch! Not-Gay Boyfriend asked me to lunch!" But these things are always open to interpretation.

In the meanwhile, though, I'm still squealing on the inside. Which I should stop now. Because it's vaguely porcine and disturbing.

And in the recruiting news for today -- got a call from California Firm today, to whose dinner I went on Tuesday. I got the hard sell that night, and got another hard sell on the answering machine today. Wow. It's amazing how much these people make it seem like you'll actually be valued at their firm. I read an article last year theorizing that the reason so many people go to law firms from Crimson is the psychological relief they feel upon learning that, after a year of being told they know nothing, SOMEone actually does like them. That someone turns out to be law firms. And with the extent and expansiveness of the wooing, it's no wonder that we all respond positively.

Correction: In last night's entry, I said I made a decision between English and History for my undergrad major, and picked history. Well, as BC pointed out, I actually double-majored in BOTH English and History. There was point where I thought I had to choose between the two, but in the end, I finished the English major because I was so close to finishing it anyway. Wrote a B+ senior thesis on the trope of illness in Dickens' novels, too, as I recall. (Which you shouldn't necessarily believe, since I couldn't even recall I had majored in English.)

Proof that: (1) I may be losing my mind, and (2) BC really does remember my life for me. Thank god for that!

You're getting very sleepy...

Those who know me know I have a hard time making decisions. (Even if you don't know me but you just read this blog, you know I have a hard time making decisions.) In high school, I had hard time deciding whether I wanted to take journalism or video class (journalism). In college I had a hard time deciding which field to major in (history). In DC I had a hard time deciding whether to break up with my boyfriend (very, very sadly: yes). In Korea I had a hard time deciding whether to go to law school, and then which law school to go to (yes, and Crimson). In law school I had a hard deciding whether to stay in law school (yes). In law school again, I had a hard time deciding whether to go work for the summer in Cambodia or Alaska (Alaska). And now I am having a hard time deciding which firm to go work for next summer.

I have made charts (usually unfinished). I have made matrices (another word for charts). I have made lists (but then denied their logic). I have made index cards which I then sorted by group in a large pool on the floor (fun). I have meditated (calming but efficacy in doubt). I have asked lots of people (which makes me more confused). I have begged people to tell me what to do (but they have this damn principle about not living my life for me). I have gathered information (useful -- up to a point). I have flipped coins (multiple times -- never quite works). I have asked Magic 8 balls (inconsistent buggers). I have gone to saju jengis (Korean fortunetellers). I have thought (but you can rationalize anything), I have cried (usually after thinking too much), I have prayed (but the good lord helps those who helps themselves!). I have taken long walks and smoked cigarettes (clears the head but causes cancer).

And now: I have seen a hypnotist.

It's thanks to the Neener, who is writing a profile on one of her housemates, a professional hypnotist, and to the first person she lined up as a test subject, who opted out. Thus came hk, the understudy.

Neener told me to think of a habit I'd like to break, but I couldn't think of anything. What I really wanted was to be more decisive, but I didn't think it could be done in a single, one-hour session. So I just told the hypnotist: "I couldn't think of any habits I want to break."

"How about smoking?" suggested the Neener.

"Oh, yeah, I guess so," I said.

"You have to really want to do it," the hypnotist advised.

"Oh. I don't really want to quit," I confessed.

It came out that I really did want to figure out which firm to go to, though, and to my surprise, the hypnotist said that was fine. He then asked if I was on any medication, or was seeing a psychotherapist, or if there was anything I needed him to know.

"No," I said, "I'm pretty sane and healthy."

"Do you have any questions before we begin?"

"Well, you're not going to make me go around the room jumping like a rabbit, are you?" I asked half jokingly, half nervously.

"No," he said with a smile, "we usually go for larger animals."

The first 15 minutes or so, the hypnotist did a kind of intake, to clarify my goals. He had me talk about the firms, past times where I'd been decisive or indecisive, times when I felt I'd made a good decision, how I made decisions, why I was unsatisfied with my decisionmaking process. He asked me how I felt about each firm, and observed that I didn't really respond with feelings, only more logical reasons to go or not go with each firm.

"Do you want to be more decisive, or do you want an answer from your unconscious?" he asked.

"Both, I guess." I thought about it for a second. "I mean, I think they're connected."

"I don't think you're indecisive," he said. "I think you're giving life changing decisions careful thought. And it doesn't matter if other people make their decisions faster, or what they think."

"That's true, but I also want to be less stressed about making decisions."

Having clarified my goals, he then told me to sit back in the papa-san I was sitting in, and to stretch out my arms, lace my fingers, and then place them in my lap. "Now," he said, "I want you to look up at the ceiling without raising your head, and fix your eyes on a spot in the ceiling. Look at it in a kind of dreamy way. When I count to three, you're going to close your eyes, and when you close your eyes, I want you to envision a beach. You're walking on this beach, and it stretches out in front of you for miles. The sun is warm on your cheeks and your nose and your forehead. You're walking on the sand, and you hear the sound of the waves and the water.

"Now I'm going to count to three again, and when I reach three, I want you to open your eyes and look at that spot in the ceiling again. When you've fixed your eyes on the that spot, I want you to imagine lying in a soft bed. You're sinking back into the bed, falling back. Your feet are relaxed, your legs are relaxed, your shoulders are relaxed. You're lying back and sinking back into the bed.

"I'm going to count to three again, and I want you to close your eyes again. You're lying in a soft bed, completely relaxed, and the area around your eyes is getting very heavy. Your eyelids are closed and they are very heavy, and once I count to three again, you're going to find that you can't open your eyes, even if you try."

"One. Two. Three. You can try to open your eyes now, but you won't be able to open them."

I struggled a little bit, but in the end, opened my eyes with a sheepish smile. The hypnotist waved his hand in a downward motion. "That's okay, you can close your eyes again. I'm going to count backwards from fifty now, and I want you to continue imagining relaxing, relaxing, sinking into that bed. Fifty. Forty-nine."

My cell phone chimed.

"There's going to be other sounds in the room," he said, unperturbed, "but I don't want you to worry about that. Just concentrate on my voice and see those numbers on your forehead as I count. Forty-five. Forty-four."

I heard another person walking down the stairs of the house, going into the kitchen, and making what smelled like a microwave pizza. And I was getting cold. But I kept my eyes closed.

"Okay. Now I want you to imagine you're in an elevator. You see a bank of lights indicating the floors on the side. I want you to imagine that you're on the 10th floor, and you're moving down. When you reach the basement, you've reached your unconscious. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

"You've reached the basement now, hk. The door is going to open now, and you're going to see things in front of you that weren't there before. I want you to describe them to me. What do you see?"

I briefly saw a bright light, and an ocean view, where I'd been walking before. I couldn't tell if it was just my imagery from before, though, and I forced my mind to think, "Basement." Basement. Basement. Boxes.

"Boxes," I said. "I see boxes."

"Describe them to me."

"They're just brown cardboard packing boxes."

"How many are there?"

I was silent for a minute as I struggled to see. "There's a lot, I think. But I can see 2 clearly."

"Okay, I want you to go to those boxes and open one."

"They're big," I said, nonsensically.

"That's okay. What do you see inside?"

I tried envisioning the box, and opening it. "I don't see anything."

"That's okay. Try the next box. What's inside?"

I again tried envisioning the box, taking the first one down and peering into the second one. I couldn't envision it. "I don't know."

"Okay. That's all right. Now I want you to imagine a door at the end of the basement. Do you see the door?"

"Yes."

"What does it look like?"

"It's just a cheap, thin wooden door, the kind you buy at ... at Home Depot. It has a round handle."

"I want you to open this door. What do you see?"

"I see the basement storage room of my old dorm."

"And what do you see there?"

"Boxes. They're in two compartments, both of them blocked off by wire."

"Go inside the compartments and tell me what you see."

"It's locked."

I felt the hypnotist press my hand. "I've given you the key. You have the key now. You can go in."

"Okay, I'm in."

"What do you see?"

"There's an old refridgerator on the floor."

"What else?"

"Boxes. Cardboard boxes."

"How many?"

The number 7 popped unbidden into my mind. "Seven."

"What do they look like?"

"They look like the boxes I put in storage last year. One of them is a plastic container, like you buy at the Container Store. One of them has Korean writing on it."

"What does the writing say?"

"I can't remember." At that point I realized I was remembering what I had actually put away, not seeing with my mind, and wondered if that was bad. "Oh, it's like children's books."

"Okay. I want you to imagine something else now. I want you to remember a time when you made a good decision. When you describe that decision to me, your left index finger is going to rise, on its own. Tell me about that decision."

I wondered which decision I could talk about. My major in college? Going to Korea? I settled for my choice of undergraduate colleges, how I'd gone to sleep exhausted in someone's bed and woken up and listened to the students in the common room talking about their studies. But my finger didn't rise.

"Now I want you to imagine you're in an office chair." I amused myself by sitting first in a Herman Miller mesh chair, then a padded chair, then back to the Herman Miller.

"There's an office desk in front of you. And on that desk there is an envelope. In that envelope, there's a single sheet of paper. And on that paper, there's going to be a name of a firm." The name of the Magic Circle firm floated through my mind. But what about the passive aggressive firm, I thought frantically. That's the firm I should go to. My finger twitched involuntarily.

"Now I want you to open that envelope and tell me what it says, but I want you to do it without thinking, without giving yourself the chance to think. Now. You can open the envelope now. What does it say?"

I envisioned wielding a metal letter opener and slicing through the top of the envelope, which was a heavy cream stock. I opened the folded paper. "I think it says [name of Magic Circle firm]," I said, with a half smile of recognition.

"Which firm is that?"

"The small one, the UK firm."

"Okay. Now when I count back from 10, you're going to slowly come back to this room. You're going to start feeling the chair against your back. You're going to become aware of being in this room. You're going to wake up refreshed and relaxed. From now on, when you make decisions, you're going to make them more easily, because they are decisions being made intelligently, thoughtfully, and from an insightful person. They are good decisions. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. You can open your eyes now."

I opened my eyes slowly. They felt crusty, as if I'd been asleep for a while. I felt relaxed, but not refreshed. Drained, actually.

The whole experience took about an hour. In many respects, it felt like the time I had, on my father's advice, meditated about going to law school. I sat in my room with a candle and tried to wipe my mind blank. It wouldn't stay blank, but I'd just sweep the images away and come back to a blank, white space again. Finally, an image came to mind. It was of me sealing up an envelope, addressing it to Crimson, and mailing it. And that was that.

I'm not sure if I was really under hypnosis, or whether I was in a meditative state, or if I was just trying to fulfill someone's suggestions about relaxing. Maybe I do unconsciously want to go to the UK firm. Maybe I was leaning that way today. Neener said that when I was talking about the firms, she thought I'd choose #1 or #3. Maybe it's all a crock of BS. But I do feel calm about it.

The hypnotist told me how to self-hypnotize. Maybe I'll try it again tomorrow.

Had a weird few hours yesterday where I almost had a little hyperventilatory replay of last year's nervous breakdown. I think I was reacting to the make-out session with the Bulgarian real estate agent (a phrase that itself leads to helpless laughter). Or, it could have been the prospect of deciding which firm to go with.

On that front, I surrounded myself with 13 piles of paper and started making a decision matrix (it's a chart, but I like calling it a matrix -- sounds more deadly, which it was). Got through about an hour and crossed off 3 firms (out of 13), when I felt completely overwhelmed. Firms were creeping back onto the possibles list that I hadn't thought about for a couple weeks. I wanted to cry.

Instead, I called BC. My lifeline, my life coach, light of my life and fire of my loins. And she spaketh: "hk, I remember you making a list in college when you were trying to decide which major to go with -- English or history. But you didn't believe your own list! There was one side that was clearly longer than the other, but you didn't go with that -- you waited until the last minute and then decided based on your own weird hk logic."

"So ... you're saying I've done this before?"

Heh. Of course I have. I don't remember that particular list in college (though I do remember coming to a decision to major in history while watching Henry V), but that's why BC is my friend. She remembers my life for me.

And, since both my life coaches (BC and Double M) have reminded me that I always agonize over decisions, always wait until the last minute, and always make a decision based not on logic or matrices but my own internal reasoning that may or may not be logical -- I put the piles of paper away. I slid materials from 10 firms out of sight and I put materials from 3 on my desk. These are the three firms I had visited a second time, for whatever reason -- and these were sorta random: for example, I didn't visit one firm I had originally picked out, because the recruiter didn't follow up on my telephone request for a visit -- and for better or worse, I'll be going to one of them this summer.

They are: (1) the big, well-known domestic firm known for its volume of international work; (2) the big, well-known domestic firm known for its nice, passive-aggressive personality; and (3) the smaller NY office of an enormous Magic Circle UK firm.

Now, here's the thing:
(1) this firm is indisputably a great place if you want to work overseas, if you want to do international transactions work. It is known for quirky people, for valuing individuality. On its face, it looks like a very good fit -- name recognition domestically AND internationally, good culture, etc.

BUT. The people I met as a whole were quirky in ways that I am not quirky. I didn't quite click with anyone except maybe one person. And -- this is going to sound incredibly petty, but bear with me -- they wouldn't pay for a hotel for me on my second visit to the office, because they considered Crimson-New York a day trip. As BC pointed out, this might be a sign of financial frugality, which should please me. But it's also a sign that they're not willing to keep up with other firms who willingly put me up in hotels for a second visit. And when you're dealing with firms that pretty much look alike, the things at the margins count a lot.

It just gave me an uneasy feeling about the approach to costs.

(2) Passive-aggressive firm: I feel like I SHOULD go there, being as I am passive-aggressive and reasonably well-socialized, which is the feeling I generally got from folks there. It was just very easy to talk to everyone there, and everything was extremely professional and well-run.

BUT. They're not international. Sure, they have their cross-border deals and their foreign offices, but their focus is really the domestic market. They're not known for moving associates around. They have a miniscule projects practice, which is what I wanted to try out.

That's not to say that it's impossible to work overseas with them, but it's probably more difficult.

(3) Magic Circle! That's just cool. It's a smaller office (about 100 lawyers versus 400 or 500), but part of a huge international British firm that practices local law everywhere, that moves people around a lot. They asked right off the bat where I wanted to split the summer -- Hong Kong or London? -- and okayed it with ease. There's a projects partner there who I think would look out for me -- a ready-made mentor. And the people were a little off, a little quirky, but also pleasant and professional and grown-up. No fast friends here, but a better lifestyle -- firms 1 and 2 probably have an annual hours average of at least an 1800, while this one has a worldwide goal of 1650. Probably higher in NYC, but still, a little more humane.

BUT. Very little name recognition in the States, so what about the exit options? Shouldn't I go to a big-ass firm, rated by one ranking as #5 (the passive aggressive firm) or #8 (the big international NY firm), so I have more options after the law firm grind? Will I even go to a law firm? Won't it be more pleasant to work in a smaller place? But I didn't connect with anyone I met, whereas at the first two firms, I at least connected with one or two people.

Yah. So. There it is. Decision due on Friday.

Aaaaaaand, on a completely different note, Joiner and I completely squicked ourselves out last night by going to webMD and learning all about herpes. Herpes -- it's for life!

One WANTS to embrace one's international 'ho-ish side, but unlike the ladies of Sex and the City, we mere mortals fear STDS.

First real snow of the season! And boy, is it ever coming down.

I mentioned that the cold winds had come, bringing with them winter, but it's still a shock to look outside my 4th-story window and see the flakes coming down thick and fast. The semester has blown by -- I can scarcely believe it's already December. It's like November didn't even happen. My first exam is in 11 days.

And in extracurricular news, I went out last night with Neener to a party full of Europeans, including a heavy Finnish Nokia contingent, a very nice high school Italian exchange student, and a Bulgarian real estate agent whom I wound up making out with in a parking lot at 2 a.m.

Happy winter!

After a few days of unseasonably warm weather (in the 50s and 60s!), the cold winds of winter have returned, with more of a promise to stay.

I was out in town today with Neener, who always knows the funky places to go. She took me tonight to an artists' ... er, building, I guess, out in the south part of town. It was hopping with art students in their fluorescent pink dreads and hip yuppies in their solemn wool coats.

I told her I was feeling a little lonesome these days, perhaps because things have slowed down a bit. It's been non-stop since the beginning of the school year with job interviews and visits, plus student activities and such, but this week has been pretty manageable in terms of getting school work done. Activities are almost done for the semester, not to reawaken until February or so, and there are no more firm visits to make. It's time to start studying for finals (the 15th, 20th and 21st of this month), and make that summer job decision.

Neener, after a very nice summer romance that lingered into fall, is single again, like hk, and we are both, I think, feeling our age. Not that we're feeling old, just feeling our age. Most of my friends from pre-law school life are coupled off in serious relationships or marriage, some into the home-buying stage, and all into a busy stage of their careers. As I told the Neener, the loneliness I feel has little to do with wanting to be married (inconceivable at this point to me) or wanting to be in a relationship (okay, a little). It has more to do with my friends being busy and me being not quite as busy right now. I've not felt that I wanted or needed friends at law school up until now, but a couple more friends probably wouldn't hurt.

I usually hang out with Joiner -- hardly a day goes by that I don't see her a couple times, sometimes for hours at a time -- and I occasionally see members of the Clique from last year. In fact, there was a mini-Clique reunion today for lunch, but I didn't attend, in part due to some weirdness between myself and two members of that group: the Destroyers. (If you recall, they used to date each other -- now they are broken up.)

I went over to Mr. Destroyer's house a couple weeks ago by invitation, and what with the wine, the candle, and the music, it was a suggestive sort of situation. Nothing happened, but it made me feel strange. Then I saw Ms. Destroyer a week later, and damned if it wasn't Mindfuck Central, because we bumped into someone who recognized me from the ONE other time I had been out with Mr. Destroyer and said -- in front of Ms. Destroyer: "Oh yes, now I remember, you were out for drinks with Mr. Destroyer when I met you."

All common sense says to stay the hell out of the Destructo-sphere, and against my drama-seeking, Director-of-Mindfuck tendencies -- which aren't very strong, to tell the truth -- I have. But feeling lonesome and having few acquaintances certainly makes the prospect of a little drama very tempting. Heh.

Sent emails to 13 firms today asking for extensions on the decision deadline.

On my last night in Double M's house, I was stressing over the decision and not having made any headway, and Double M had these wise words for me: "You know you're not going to decide until the last minute, so why not assume that and just leave it til then? Just stop stressing about it until the last minute."

Working with my neuroses and tendencies, instead of against them! I love it.

I technically have until December 15th, but I have imposed a personal deadline of the 9th. That's the last day of class, and after that I MUST study for finals.

Today am leaning for Mighty Big UK Firm. It's smaller, they'll send me to Hong Kong for half the summer, and there's a very nice KA partner there who I think would look out for me. And while the people were a bit odd, there was a calm, unapologetic, professional air to the place.

Although a smaller place won't have the amenities that a larger firm will.

Agh.

On an entirely different topic, went to a mediation thing tonight, a meeting of the fall trainees, and had a great time. I really like recruiting for this group, mostly because it involves little responsibility and the group sells itself -- everyone is already interested in it and it's just about giving people information.

Oh, and back to legal recruiting -- every day there are phone calls from firm people: "Just wanted to check in with you hk, since I know decision time is coming up. If you have any questions or if I can help you through the process, please just let me know. I have a crack team of minions -- oops, I meant junior associates! -- who are ready to spend half an hour on the phone trying to be pleasant as you dither and dally about details that they know you can't possibly evaluate until you spend time in a firm as a lawyer. So call me, 'kay? Love ya."