exitstrategy

So I promised a friend that today I would be positive for the entire day. I promised not to complain about work, or my family, or my giant ass. So clearly I have nothing to say.

I am trying to think of positive memories from my past. I had a pretty idylic childhood. And by idylic I mean overly sheltered but very safe. I went to college in Wisconsin. There was only one homeless person on campus, but we all knew him and he looked very well fed. The rumor on campus was that he was an eccentric millionaire that liked to look homeless. I mean there was roofies and stuff on campus so it was not all rainbows and butterflies but I am a woman of my word…

One of my fondest memories was when I was younger. I had all my friends over to our house for a sleep over. They were all very fond of my dad. He would make jokes and fake chase us around. He would also lift us up and play airplane. We took turns while my dad propelled us through the air making the sputtering noice of an airplane. Then, it was my friend Robert’s turn to be propelled, but Robert was really fat and so my dad tried to pick him up but fell down.

Wait, that was not me. My name is not Rudi Huxtobel. My dad does not love hoagie sandwiches. That was an episode of the Cosby Show. Have all my authentic childhood memories been replaced by my memories of 80s sit coms? The Spinster has been living a lie! That or she is bat-sh*t crazy. OMG, Fat Spinster is talking about herself in the third person.

Gardenia look what you have done? I can’t be positive. It throws off my center of gravity. Sorry to break a promise but I don’t know what I might do if I continue. I will probably go out looking for an older fat British man to act as my butler and call him Mr. Belvedeer.

I hate my job!!! Ok I am feeling better. Crisis averted. So, loyal fans, excited for Halloween?

Note: this was the Spinsta’s Halloween episode called Sit Com Demon Possession. BOO. Happy Halloween!!!

The Spins is having a bad week that keeps getting worse. Today I was transported back 30 years ago - before the 18 million cracks and the feminist teachings of Rachel Ray.

I had a meeting with a partner and our co-counsel. I did all the research, prepared the memos, drafted the motions. I was probably the most informed person at our meeting. But of course, neither man would listen to what I said or would repeat what I said and take credit for it. They wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Neither directed any questions to me but merely talked to each other and then paused to indicate that I was permitted to speak. Then, they left the room before I had a chance to get all my files back in the rolly-briefcase thing I had to bring to the meeting (ugh the true injustice - i became one of those freaks in law school who carried their books in a wheeled backpack). By the time I got all packed up they were halfway down the hall and I was running after them past the row of attorney offices who no doubt thought I was the crazy court reporter.

I consider myself a feminist. Or, maybe feminist lite. I have strong views on equaity in the workplace and think law firms need to emphasize retaining and promoting women. I am a member of several womens groups (but those bunch of harpies usually just depress me so I can go only go so often). But, then as you know I am a fan of the halloween whore exception to the good girl’s dress code. I also still love The Game’s “Wouldn’t get far” with lyrics: “you wouldn’t get far… far … far … if you kept your legs closed, it would be just a waste of time,” although in my defense I do hate myself for jamming out to the song.

But the feminist part of me gets very upset at the injustice of it all. How it is still a mans world in law. I am reminded of a quote from a well respected feminist scholar. “Why is it that when a man goes after what he wants he is driven, but when a woman does the same she is a b*tch?” So spoke Aundrea Zuckerman when she tried to beat out less qualified Brandon for the editor in chief role and Gil or something gave it to Brandon. I don’t know Aundrea, why is it??

Readers, Friends, my new Taiwanese Manager, Fat Spinsta is going through an existential crisis. I am not entirely sure what that means but I need a big word to express the depth of my despair.

I have been writing case summaries for hours. It is excrutiatingly boring. I will give these case summaries to a partner. He (they are almost always he - and judging by my sexist fans who suggest Fat Spinsta become a lady of the night I understand why) will put the summaries in his brief case and perhaps put them on the podium when he goes in front of the judge. He will almost certainly not even look at my summaries.

When he returns from court, he will no doubt ask me to do something unnecessary with the summaries. He will likely ask me to summarize the summaries.

I have do to stupid sh*t like this all the time. And the truth is I just don’t care. Who cares about case summaries? Whenever I get frustrated with my job (i.e. every few minutes), I talk to my sister for advice. She will analogize our situations and offer the advice that has gotten her through residency: when you get frustrated with the menial stuff, just focus on helping your patient. And then she will make me feel bad for making a lot of money doing menial things while she makes no money and actually saves lifes.

Her analogy fails though. I don’t have a patient to help. I suppose I have a client but he/she/it is so far removed I cannot see how what I do helps the client. I guess there is the partner but I don’t really want to help him. He is, after all, the dumb jerk making me summarize summaries.

So how do I go on?

Now, some of you may be thinking, Fat Spinsta, you make a six figure salary when we are in a recession. You self-indulgent ass. Well to you I say, perhaps you have a point but what about the summaries??? He wants me to summarize summaries. Injustice, even in a recession, cannot stand.

In summary …

As the name of my blog implies, I am looking for a way out of law firm life. It is likely that the success of this blog will enable me to start a new career as a blogger. This is so because the 8 of you who read this blog will become my benefactors. Note - mom and dad I am expecting you both to contribute separately as I have grown accustomed to a new lifestyle as a law firm associate.

If, for some reason, my fans decide not to sponsor me, I suppose I will have to find another job. I have met several times with a career coach. She tells me that in order to be successful, I need to do what I love. Unfortunately for me (but fortunately for her - I have been meeting with her for a year and a half and there is no end in sight) I have no idea what I love. Well, I do know what I love I love watching tv, wearing pajamas, and eating candy corn. Aside from being a contestant on Wife Swap, these interests don’t really translate into a career. I do realize that I have no husband or family and so am not elligible for Wife Swap but a girl can still dream. One day, I will leave my loving family for a week and eat gator soup with some swamp dwellers. Or, if I have my druthers, I will be able to recreate the infamous Wench Swap episode where the prim southern mom moved in with a family of real pirates. Arrr.

Until that glorious week in 2026, I am left looking for a new career. I need to find some interests, but I am not really interested in anything. I have had a string of hobbies that I start and stop. I was a dancer, a babysitter, a historian, a wiccan, and many others. Not sure what that says about this blog…

So, I am on the hunt for hobbies that I can turn into a career. I want something interesting, glamorous, and ridiculously high-paying but that does not require I work that much and does not require much effort to get. I am enlisting your help, loyal readers. Any ideas that meet my simple list of requirements?

I LOVE halloween. I get really into it. As you know, I enjoy the traditional halloween fare (i.e. candy corn). I used to love trick-or-treating. And growing up in Minnesota you really needed to be committed to the holiday in order to go out in the bitter cold. My parents would insist that we were accompanied by an adult until we were like 12. I think that was mostly because this old woman who lived alone on the block next to ours. She would make people come in two at a time and sign her guest book and then she gave raisins or cookies, but we all knew the cookies were poisonous.

My parents insisted on chaparones but they never took issue with my costumes. Even as a child I was a fan of the slutty costume. When I was in third grade I was a sexed up Betty Boop. When I was in fourth grade, I dressed up with my best friend. Her mother was almost as little as we were and had a whole closet of leather and fur get-ups. So, naturally, I was a prostitute dressed in a tiny black dress with her fox-fur bomber jacket and Marnie was my pimp in her leather pants. One of the houses on our route was having a high school party and a group of drunk 16 year olds opened the door. I can’t remember, but I think the shock of our combined costume caused one of the guys to drop his bottle of Strawberry Boones.

You might think that the trauma of that night (or my parents - um mom and dad where exactly were you during my Jean Bonett years?) would have killed the desire to dress slutty on halloween, but I like every other liberated woman want to dress whorish on halloween. I have been slutty cop, slutty doctor, slutty librarian, slutty devil and slutty time traveller (during my sci-fi phase). Last year I was a slutty young Hollywood starlet. But this year, I am torn. I have to go to my secretary’s party and I don’t know what to do. Can I dress slutty to a work party?

I have, on occassion, worn pants way to tight to qualify as business casual. I also once wore a white dress, that unbeknownst to me was complete transparent. So, I have dressed slutty to work but the work party seems different somehow. I don’t even know how to dress up for halloween if it doesn’t involve me wearing a skirt the size of my brownie’s uniform.

It is times like these I wished I had more training on appropriate office behavior.

I will rarely blog about politics.  This is because there are a lot of people who are experts in politics but there is only one who is an expert on me.  Also, I get all my news from Entertainment Tonight.  I do not know much about the candidates, but I do know that Susan Lucci is both excited to remain on Dancing with the Stars and super jazzed about the upcoming election.  And come to think of it, I rode in an elevator with Joe Biden and my grandmother has a picture of Russia in her house so I am somewhat of an expert on the election. 

Although I do not think it is my place to blog about politics, I discovered this morning that presidential candidate Senator John McCain is among my loyal readership.  So, tonight with 12 days to the election, I make an exception.

Some of you are saying, Fat Spinsta, you have only blogged three times.  What the f**k are you talking about?  And to you, I say that is true.  But, tonight I attended the training for the Election Protection Squad and I became inspired.  As you are reading this Mr. McCain, I regret to inform you that I will be working the polls come Election Day for our next President.

So little of what I do as a lawyer means anything, but making sure that no one is deprived of his/her right to vote is meaningful.  I encourage my readers who are also lawyers to join this effort.  Please check the link below:

http://my.barackobama.com/page/s/vpcvol2

Those of you who aren’t, please become part of Obama’s Get Out the Vote.  We have to win this election.

Mr. McCain, I hope this post does not stop you from reading future blogs about the adventures of Fat Spinsta. 

One of my co-workers had jury duty and she was not happy. Apparently no one likes jury duty. At my sister’s rehearsal dinner, I sat across the table from a woman who ranted for 40 minutes on how juries should all be abolished. When I told her that I was a lawyer, she inquired whether there was anything I could do to help make that happen. The fact that that woman thought I could somehow single-handedly do away with the jury system is probably proof positive that most average Americans are perhaps not equipped to be jurors. Nevertheless, I think jury duty is one of the most important things we can do as Americans, and as lawyers.

My happiest day as a lawyer occurred last year when I was working at my prior law firm. That day was when I was called for jury duty. I admit that having a day away from the office was one of the best parts of jury duty. However, it was the most I ever felt like a lawyer. I was called in the first group of people and voire dired. We went down the row and one by one the lawyers asked us what we did for a job, whether we have any problems with chiropractors, and whether we thought people commonly filed frivilous lawsuits. The first 6 people were pretty boring: they were teachers/housewives/plumbers, had no opinion of chiropractors and thought all lawsuits were frivilous. The man next to me broke the mold. “I am a hearse driver, I see a chiropractor, and I don’t think people file frivilous lawsuits.” Yikes.

Well, clearly, me and the freaky hearse driver were excused from serving on the hit and run case. The group of excused jurors made our way out of the courtroom and headed towards the elevator. Everyone wanted to know my opinion about the case since I was a lawyer. They asked me all kinds of questions and looked at me like I actually might know the answers. All of the people I worked for, and most of the people I worked with, looked at me like I could not even read. It was a thrill.

My fame was short-lived and my entourage pushed me aside and jumped on the elevator and I was stuck waiting for the next elevator with the freaky hearse driver. “So,” he asked, “I bet your glad they asked you what you did for a living. Of course they wouldn’t have a lawyer on their jury.” “True. I lucked out.” “Well, obviously no one wants a hearse driver on their jury so that worked out well for me.” “Nice. You lucked out.” “Yeah for sure. I didn’t even need to tell them about my time in prison.”

So my happiest day as a lawyer could have been my last since the freaky hearse driver probably kills the people that ride in the back seat of his car. But I survived and gave my number to freaky killing hearse driver. He may have spent time in prison, but he got his m.b.a while doing so. In other words, he was a catch. What a day.

A year and a half ago, I reached a new level in my instant messaging skills. I attempted to participate in a three-way rap battle with Tortfeazor and DJ Mad Billablez, clearly two other lawyers. I lost the battle mostly because I could not come up with a cool rap name. Well, in truth, I lost the battle because I cannot rap, but having that cool rap name would have at least made me a contender.

Today, after a year and half of searching for my true rap name, I found it. I don’t know if it was the DailyCandy I received this morning with subject line “all wed up: fall 2008 wedding guide.” I don’t know if it was the myriad photo albums on Facebook from my ten year reunion showing all my former female classmates with an additional surname. I don’t know if it was the reflection in my computer screen this morning showing my face covered in orange sugar flakes following my candy corn binge, or the pressure around my mid-section from my expanding waist fighting my narrowing waistband. Whatever the inspiration, I had found my rap name: Fat Spinsta.

My name is Fat Spinsta;
It’s nice to meetch’ya;
I think I might eatch’ya;
Because I’m fat.
Thats not with a ph, but with an f;
Get me some noodles from Boyardi, the chef.

Clearly, this rap battle goes to Ms. S.

Gardenia - this rap’s for you.

And, to my three mysterious commenters: thanks for your support. I wonder who you are…

I have completed seven years of education beyond high school. I have been a practicing attorney for two years. Despite what would appear to be a solid resume, I have been informed by my friends that the only thing I can do well is to say random, semi-humorous, semi-coherent statements on instant messenger. In fact, most of my friends prefer only to communicate with my via the internet. In short, I am uniquely qualified to be a blogger, and unqualified to do anything else. Thanks for sending me to law school mom. Oh, and thanks for being the one person to view my blog.

Those of you who read future blogs (mom), expect witty, biting commentary on law firm life. That is code for I will complain about my job to the world at large. I am not sure whether a blog is supposed to function as a diary, but I don’t care. Dear diary, its me.

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