Lifestyles of the poor and nameless

This week has been quite an interesting ride. All I can say is: TGIF! In the meantime, here's a brief recap:

1. I got to sit on the interview panel that selects law students for summer internships at my job. It is soooo different sitting on the other side of the table. It's a little scary to see the way interviewers trash-talk about resumes, cover letters, writing samples and candidates in general....and know that they must have done the same thing to you. It's also a bit sad that some interviewers see this as their chance to exact revenge for all the hellacious interviews they've endured. Case in point: Don't you hate when you go for an interview and then you never hear from them again? You rack your nerves preparing for the thing, you drive yourself crazy trying to get there and maintain your composure, you take time off work to get ready, endure the process and then they can't even be decent enough to send you a rejection letter. I'd even settle for a piece of paper with only the words "no thanks" on it.

After extended discussion about our 2 candidates, we decided to make an offer to one of them. I asked the other panel members if we were going to send out a rejection notice to the other one and they said "no. You know how this is. If you don't hear from us, then that means you didn't get it. That's life." Ugh. It only costs 39 cents to send a letter. Geez.

2. The step instructor at the gym was a workout nazi. This was my first time taking a classs with her. The class was called turbo conditioning...and they didn't lie. This woman had us doing jumping jacks for a minute straight and then jumping rope for another minute and then back to jumping jacks then running 2 laps on the indoor track...and that was the warmup. And she was very fussy about people coming in late/leaving early. HELLO...it's the gym, not the military. We have lives, ya know.I was too scared to leave early, but my quadriceps had left a long time before I did.

3. I met my first rude client. BITCH! All I can say is "beware of eminent domain."* I understand where she's coming from: the City is taking 100ft of her property due to road widening so that they can lay utility lines in the street, etc. They are offering compensation for said taking, but it's not like she can stop them from taking it. I am not personally responsible for the taking, I was just trying to gather background info for my supervisor so we could help this woman and her husband through a harrowing ordeal. I understand that she's been calling people and getting the runaround, but that ain't my problem. I mentioned to her that I was trying to help her, but I needed her to take care of some basic things first (like a title search). She wasn't trying to hear me. All she wanted was to know that her 100 year old wall would be replaced after the construction, and that her precious shrubs wouldn't be harmed. I was not in a position to provide those assurances, but I promised to get information and get back to her on Monday. After 40 minutes of listening to her shite, the bitch hung up the phone on me. ARGH! A plague on both her houses! If I were a mean person, I'd be hoping that they keep her shrubs and wall but find a dollar clause* in her title. Hmph. That'll teach the bitch to be rude to me when I'm trying to inform her of her rights.

and as if that weren't enough

4. Dad is mad at me. There is a revival at my church this weekend (you didn't know Catholics could have revivals huh?) featuring a hilarious priest from Trinidad. Pretty Ricky would like to attend the revival, but it's Monday night and it won't end until sometime around 10/11. Since he was going to come over on Sunday anyway, the plan is that he'll just stay at our house Sunday and Monday and go back home on Tuesday morning. I asked Mom if it was OK and she said yes. I assumed that this meant it was OK with Dad as well (usually when it's not, she'll say: "sure, but go ask your father") Since Dad is forgetful, I figured I'd remind him about it as the weekend approached. That would be today. I stated--- no I didn't ask--- that Pretty Ricky would be staying over this weekend. He didn't raise any objections or make any comments. I thought it was all good. I get home and find that Dad isn't speaking to me. Then Mom says "Why didn't you ask your father about Rick staying over this weekend?" HUH? So I tell her that I (apparently incorrectly) assumed that since she OK'd it, it was OK with him also. She tells me that he's mad that I didn't ask him about it. Fine, point taken. I should have asked. But does he have to be a 5 year old and run to my Mom and complain? He feels like I usurped his authority and spoiled his whole "King of the Castle" role by not asking him about it. Couldn't he have just brought this to my attention instead of staging a sulking hissy fit?Ugh.

and you're probably thinking "how old are you again?"

Yes, I'm 26 and still have to deal with this shite with my parents. I have friends my age who are married and ready to have their own children and I'm still here asking permission to have company. The irony is that my parents are always quick to say that we act as though we're guests in someone else's house, as opposed to residents of the house....but then they pull these stunts....


*The Dollar Clause allows the City of New York to take your property and provide compensation in the amount of ONE Dollar. Eminent Domain Procedures Law...it's a hell of a thing. How can they get away with this? Well....If this clause was recorded in your deed at any time, then you are deemed to be "on notice" of this possibility. It's "caveat emptor" from there on out. Title search, anyone?