I'm Done.

June LSAT. 155. That is 2 better than February and 2 less than June 2006. So that is what I am applying with. Okay. This could be worse.

It is 64 percentile. and under the very best circumstances. I have to feel good about that I guess. and this is what makes us accept that I'm not going to do better than the 157. Shit.

Ok let's see what the Princeton's Review's refund policy is.

So I walked away from this. and I come back. I am tired of hearing no. I will say that I do not feel like so much of a failure. I tested well on every practice. I did better on EVERY practice... and I took a lot of them. Maybe it is the way I stress myself out... Maybe I am just not that smart.

Now I feel like the point I start my applications from is.... "I know this doesn't look GREAT... but really I am going to make you proud of me... Just let me in."

Maybe Malty Milt Head has the right idea. and the better approach is to step back and figure out why the no. and what I'm doing wrong. and what I need to do better. and where I am going to go to law school.

Update part 3.
I looked at my answers. I stuck to my strategy... and this is what happened.

1 Logic/Arguments. I had to shoot for 20. I hit my 20
2 games- I had to do all. I finished and only got 3 wrong
3 1st reading... this was experimental... I got that
4 2nd reading... harder than 1st I knew it would be my worst section
5 2nd Logic/arguments. Even I knew I was tired at this point. I struggled to test through it and I didn't hit my 20. This is what messed up my score. 1 or 2 more questions right here and I would have at least gotten the 157 I started with.

and not even this makes me feel any better... and I cannot do it again. Only 3 times in a 2 year period. ugh part 2

Cat-callers are the public equivalent to some guy in a club.

Last night yielded this somewhat profound realization.

Let set the premises...

1. Guys who yell stuff on the street at women are trying to get laid.
2. These guys are under the impression this method is effective (maybe for some it is)
3. Their basic stance is that you can not get a girl's phone number if you don't say anything (there may be something to this)
4. I don't think much thought is put into what is actually said. The mission is to get a girl's attention. By any means necessary.
5. Even catcallers admit that this is easier done when not-sober.

oh and women have yet to figure out the formula of what men yell at and why. We also think these guys are jokes.

1. Guys in bars who approach women are trying to get laid.
2. These guys are under the impression this method is effective (and for a lot it is)
3. Their basic stance is that you can not get a girl's phone number if you don't say anything. (there is definitely something to this)
4. I don't think much thought is put into what is actually said. The mission is to get a girl's attention. By any means necessary.
5. Even guys in bars admit this is easier done when not-sober.

You see the similarities? Women, as a group, kind of don't.

I give you a second to let that sink in.

Now that we have the premises... let's talk about the disconnects. The differences if you will.
1. For the most part, being in a bar requires $. On the street does not. This sort of suggests that have some form of income.
2. Being in a bar gives you more diversity in they type of guys that approach you. As opposed to say... a certain type of minority using a certain type of vernacular.
3. Being approached in a bar is far less embarrassing and is less scary.
4. Women are more relaxed in bars. and usually more open to being approached.
5. Plus it helps that most decent bars have some sort of dress code or an idea of what is acceptable and more importantly... what is not.

In both scenarios... neither guy is looking for a fulfilling long-lasting committed relationship. At least not there.

My basic stance on guy in a bar... is that you are there for entertainment purposes. Maybe that is why I lack a proper boyfriend... because there are just situations I don't take seriously. I usually don't give my # out. I'll take the guy's #. But the chances I'm going to call are next to you hitting the lottery... again this is not about me.

So what about the idea that calling a woman out on the street is an exertion of dominance and an overt power struggle... is it less so in a bar? The female perception is that it is. Yes he may be doing it to impress his friends. Yes he may talk trash the minute you leave. But it is easier for women to believe that the bar situation had something to do with US (and in some cases I'm sure it does).

We all want that bit of romance that begins "We locked eyes from across the room and I was instantly drawn to her/him..." But on the street... if you don't look pretty freakin impressive... the chances of that scenario going that way are not good.

So final analysis... If you're looking to pick up women... stick to the bars. If you desperately trying to pick someone up on the street... You'd better be hot and start with the first words you learn in every language "Good Morning/Afternoon/ Evening" and "My name is..."

I am a Sheep. Baaaaa

I say so because I am about to write about an issue that everyone is writing about. Kimberly Klinger. She is a writer for the Washington City paper.

The link to her online article is I've Got You're Hey Baby Right Here.

She writes and chronicles the ways she is catcalled in public. You know what that is... you walk by a guy or a group and they make kissing noises, or there is the infamous "Daaaaaaaam", or something equally as articulate is screamed out.

Women have long tried to figure out how these guys are expecting this to work in their favor. Monito died laughing the day I was on the phone with him, while pumping my own gas, some guy drove by and honked screaming something supposedly complimentary out the window.

How was that supposed to work for that guy? how? was I gonna put the gas pump back, jump in the car and chase him down? is that what was supposed to happen?

Her article suggests that for the guys who engage in this type of activity it is for the sake of power. For them to feel powerful. I can see that. Like a rapist is seeking to be in control, also about power. Especially since those that engage in it are the least powerful. Supposedly minorities and less educated with nothing better to do then hang out on a street corner all day trawling for women.

and women find it digusting. not flattering. not at all. we know that it is not because we are hot, it truely has nothing to do with us. the guy calling us out in public is trying to say anything to get laid.

But I wonder if her way of dealing with it is most effective. She screams back, flips people off, and generally make it worse. I have found my own way of dealing with it and gotten basically good results. I don't scream. I don't like to. It hurts my throat, I'm not usually a screamer at people. and I don't like to be embarrassed in public...

1. You try to ignore as much of it as you can (all women do)
2. If accosted you try to be patient and look confused
3. Say thank you for the compliment and you have a boyfriend
4. Say something like "that is not how you speak to a lady. that's disrespectful to your mother"

The last one works well here. Not so much in NYC. Lucky for me, in most major cities I have had my overly protective sis to do the screaming and flipping off, so I am not only trying to get away from some guy on a street, but also get my sister away from them. Because she will get into a fist fight anytime, anyplace for damn near any reason. There is definitely something to be said about southern hospitality.

I say all of this because DJ Sabrozo is opening his club tonight. and all of the girlies and I promised to show up to support him. It is a latin club... with all of the gold and silver teeth that is expected. Talking to JB yesterday she used to be very opposed to salsa dancing. I don't care, It's the concession my friends give me. I love you, you will show up and be happy about it. I do trashy clubs for Tourettes, and look-at-me nights for JB, even pulled out of a bookstore (wearing jeans, a tank top and flip flops.... literally my shoes went flip and flop when I walked) and dragged to dinner and 3 successive bars because Bianca was about to kill her sidekick. and then everyone else we know showed up.

Back to JB. She is unusually psyched. I am curious about this... she explains she is still in look-at-me phase. and she knows that latin clubs are full of all the guys who say dumb sh*t. any other day, she could have written Ms. Klinger's article. Will let you know how this turns out.

"Honey I love you, I just can't pay that much for a blouse."

This is what made me leave the mall today.

The mall is on sale.

We love the mall on sale.

We (I) found myself in Dillard's saying this aloud to a Michael Kors blouse.

It was time to go.


Furthermore... How does the saying go? Tell me who your friends are, and I'll know who you are. I had dinner last night with Bianca and Bunny. As Bianca only knows Bunny superficially and called her crazy... I feel the need to demonstrate that she is not. Plus I owed Bianca dinner because she paid for all of last Friday which was so not cheap and for helping me pull basic research for Shy's lawsuit. He has lawyers. lots of them... so why are we doing the b*tchwork? He lacks people skills and picked a sucky local lawyer. and then fired him and got another sucky lawyer. So if he changes again... anything he gets out of a settlement gets eaten up in lawyers fees. But that is not the point of the story.

So we are at dinner and I relay the bad Olive Garden date. My lunch and a movie... turned into just lunch. But that is a whole different post... I didn't want to sit next to him in the dark. and truly it is not the Olive Garden that was held against him. I have been know to eat some junk. and Olive Garden is not TERRIBLE terrible... just not really great. I live in south LA. We are spoiled by great food. (except for the brunch that I wanted scrambled eggs and was fed (or I ordered) yucky eggs benedict but in great ambiance with the most wonderful company so the bad eggs didn't matter... Thanks Lemon)

... and Bianca tells a tidbit of her parents... which is a bit of lore. Her parents are an urban myth. They've been married for 11ty billion years... and they still love each other. The 3 of us wonder if our generation is too self-involved (word supplied by Dk... changed to SELFISH by Bianca) to settle... and once we are married... to stick to it forever and ever. In truth, maybe we are.

Bunny's dad died when she was younger. She was Homecoming Queen at her high school so her mom had her Engagement ring melted down into a tiara pendent with the Diamond as the center piece. It is very beautiful and the gesture is very moving... and of course Bunny was queen... she is stinking gorgeous.

Bianca's parents are retired... and remodeling the house... and bought a huge plasma screen television... Bianca is a whole attorney who calls her parents once a week to say "STOP SPENDING MY INHERITANCE!"and hangs up.

Apparently... we are spoiled. and in good form, I put my foot in my mouth by pointing out how both Bunny and Bianca are but saying that surely I was different. They both spit out their food to keep from choking. Today, Shy tried to make it better by saying "But you are spoiled in a way that you think everyone is supposed to be nice to every other person. Not just you. So it's not spoiled in a bad way"

Like I don't know when I'm being pacified. Rat Bastard.

All- Star reject.

Ok so Pfizer is a no. but I kind of saw that coming. The regional manager asked 11ty billion questions about my selling motivation and all I had to come back with was personality, minimal sales experience, and a lot of make-the-world-a-better-place experience.

So these past couple of days are not looking so sparkly. Malty Milt Head is still gung-ho about working on me... and I want to crawl under a rock. but that is not what we are going to do.

I am frustrated... I've never heard so many no's in such a short amount of time... or all together actually. I am looking at each as a learning experience... so what do I need to do differently.

1. Find job I really want
2. Be able to express how it fits into my grand plan
3. Do not mention Lsat or Law school
4. Find said job relatively quickly.

and as much as I do not want to go back to my job... I do still have one. that will hopefully enable me to keep looking. and at least keep paying my bills... and I do not want to stay here until law school wherever it may be. I want to leave.

So if the resume keeps getting picked up, the problem is the interviewing? I've been told I interview well. I've met me... I like me... but if I am giving people the impression that a job I am applying for is beneath me... do I lower my self to said criteria and sell myself as this is all I encompass or do I aim higher... and what is higher? exactly.

Back to the drawing board, kiddies. Also, I will tell you about being wait-listed for swim lessons as soon as it bites me in the bum. You know you just know something is gonna bite you... and you have to do it your own way anyway? this is that. and I am a dork.

Verdict on Yesterday.

SUCKED! with silver linings and warm and squishy undertones.

I would like to say I was in mourning yesterday... but what really kept me from blogging was that I was watching the Age of Love. Tacky. I know. Tragic... I'm with you... and yet....

oh and I want him to pick a 40 year old. Because while the 20 somethings are pretty-ish... they were catty, superficial, and overly mean. I don't think they were truly representative of my age ground and I don't think that one among them was whole. but then again we do not see all of who and how they are... it is the nature of editing... and yet I still want him to pick a 40 something... so all of the mean 20 somethings can suck it.

I learned a lot yesterday. Did not get the position w/Progressive... because between Lsat, IQ and personality... 1. the regional manager thought the job was beneath me and 2. I look like a flight risk.

What did we learn? Don't say "I want to go to Law School or I just re-took the LSAT". When asked where you see yourself in 5 years... lie for all you are worth.

on to drug comp... It's hard to guage how that went. She asked stuff I was sort of prepared for but then some sweeping generalities that made me go uhhhhhh... very stressful. also... do not joke with a recruiter unless you know how it will be taken. Better yet... don't do it.

So I listed w/ a staffing firm also. If I want to go to law school and technically what I do is a division of our legal dept... I can find something in the field that will pay me enough... right? I'm not a paralegal but I have a real degree and work history and am competant so that should put me head and shoulders above an a**load of the competition... I've met non-attorneys that work at law firms... their jobs DO NOT look like rocket science. I know I can do this.

We are most aggressively looking this week and will go back to the job I have on Monday. Rat bastard to infinity. If anything it is just for now. sigh.

Also, Malty Milt Head is way to excited to be debriefed on the whole play by play so on the off chance I get the "thank you, but no" email... we will know what to do differently.

Really good or Really bad

Today is one of those days... it's either gonna ROCK or completely SUCK. no in between. Not today.

and as I get psyched for phone screening... Malty Milt Head sends me this...

You're about to be faced with several exciting opportunities. The good news is that they will add a lot of excitement to your life, and get you a lot of attention. The bad news is that all the activity will probably separate you from the people you really care about, at least for a few days. Be sure to be clear about your commitments, so that friends won't be disappointed. Set up realistic expectations.

Horror-scope extraordinaire... almost enough to make one superstitious. almost.

Stalking is never good advise!

Go with me...

So as I am doing research and talking to everyone who will talk to me about rep-ing for drugs... I find myself at my Friendly Commercial Bookseller. (it is Barnes and Nobles but has had repeat appearances... soon you will get the abbr. FCB...remeber this, there will be a test)

I pull a book... I forget the title but it's Lisa somebody and something like 3 days to drug rep interview. I imagine I could benefit from this. I snuggle down and flip through to see if it is worth buying. It is not. However, I do have plans to go visit it later today.

Her "program" consists of Day 1:

1. Wear a business casual outfit and carry about 20 resumes. (no problem there)
2. Drive to a facility that houses lots of doctors for a little before 7 am. (still not bad) and prepare to stay all day. Do not leave for lunch.
3. Wait for reps to pass by. You will recognize them by their suits and the rummaging in the truck of a lesser car (Ford Escort, Chevy Malibu, Pontiac Grand Prix). also by the container of samples. (this is where it starts to not look good)
4. Say hello to each rep that passes by (not bad)
5. Offer to help them carry whatever (suspect...)

6. Introduce yourself and express interest in being a rep...
7. Ask if they know of any openings and if they are willing to help you get a job.
8. Ask for their card and if you can call them later tonight.
9. Keep list of all the 'contacts' you make... etc.
10. Follow up that night. Send them your resume and ask for their boss's contact information.

Day 3 and the interview stuff is the stuff from this book I can use. But I couldn't justify spending $30 on this.

Ok... Let's talk about this. Yes reps are generally known to be a charismatic and personable set. Yes they are friendly. Yes as someone who once had the stress of interviewing for a month; they are sympathetic to someone trying to break in to the bizz... But you are also asking them to stake their professional reputation on someone who approached them like a seller of Rolex watches on the streets of NY. (psst.... you in the suit... over here) because you are essentially selling yourself.

BUT WHAT SHE SUGGESTS IS AKIN TO STALKING!

You are also talking about a large number of very attractive females in this position. Male or female... if you or an equivalent "business casual" stranger walked up to me and asked me to help them get a job... You just might get maced. and that is what's up.

But let's give her the benefit of the doubt. This is an industry that rewards aggressiveness (it is on my list of behaviors I am supposed to exhibit) and let's say that you get 2 leads out the 20 people you talk to. You call at home and get the inside track from one of those. and they sorry rep who feels sorry for you does recommend you... 18 other reps (who would potentially be your peers) think you are a bona fide NUT JOB! and bad news travels fast.

They already have all of the medical contacts you are trying to make. So if is does work, does it really? ick. will outline basic approach later tonight.

Yesterday I thumb wrestled with a complete stranger...

twice. and he let me win... twice.

I was picking up my new glasses and I had to wait. I was bored so I asked the guy next to me to thumb wrestle. He was surprisingly funny. Especially as he is a newbie chemical engineer... so he was as much of a dork as I am. awwww...

and later that day I saw Tourettes have a fist fight with 2 plastic flower plants... and she lost. To a plastic flower. So I guess you would not be surprised if I told you she'd had a drink. or 2. or 8.

Yesterday I was massively enamored with my city. Truly I had a fantastic day. You know those days where you kind of wander around and think to yourself "Man, I'm glad I'm here!" that was yesterday. off we go...

Mom got smacked by Karma. Mom does not do her own grocery shopping, I do it. Occasionally she comes along. Mom got divorced when I was 1 1/2. She has no sons, she has no other family here besides my grams. So I am the help she has. She is spoiled. and she knows it.

Thursday we shop for stuff and get to the truck... and find the salt tucked underneath the cart with the bleach. Mom says "check the receipt... did we pay for the salt? I don't remember moving it." I look... not there. She and I are both too lazy to go back and pay for it. So we stole the salt.

Friday morning, in an effort to let mom sleep in, I take grams to hang out with her homies. She goes to an older adults aerobic class... she greatly looks forward to this. As I am digging in the truck to find my fallen newspaper to amuse myself... I find a grocery bag of melted ice cream. All of the ice cream. Slim-a-Bear for grams, Drumsticks for mom, and fruit bars and Italian ices for me... all melted... for 24 hours... under the front passenger seat. ewwww.

The best part is that I had to leave it there until I took grams home and sneak it into mom's trash... because if my grams had seen it we would NEVER have heard the end of it.

The pic is my gift to myself. Yay me. I meant to get it for my graduation present...because it took so long to get the degree.... grrr tigers! and it is made by Mignon Faget... an exclusively Louisiana jeweler. My chain is just the silver rope...the amethyst and citrine would have clashed with too much stuff.

But I think it's time I got this. I am poised and ready to make huge sweeping changes... and maybe something good is gonna come. Not maybe. definitely! You got this? I got this. We got this.

Especially as I get a phone call from Nugget yesterday. DK called and told him about interviews on Monday and suggests Nugget call to advise. Because Nugget is a pharmaceutical rep in D.C. and has a strong background in sales and has beautiful social graces. etc.etc.

And as we talk he is walking out the door to go to NYC for the weekend and asks if I can call him tomorrow... I ask if there is a specific better time for me to call him he says: "K, you can call me anytime I always have a minute for you." stupid considerate kin of the dream killer.

Stupid, awful, thoughtful Dream Killer. This was the equivalent of buying a very thoughtful something pretty. ick.

1 vs. 5,000

X2.

I will explain the title line 1st. Remember that time that I thought there was a chance that I could be a drug rep? and then I spammed the various pharmaceutical websites with my resume? and then one of the biggest pharma companies (seriously... one of the heavies... if you are reading this you know which one, even if you don't know you know... but you know. exactly what you are thinking... that is probably the one) gave me a nibble. huh?

So Monday I have 2 prelim phone interviews with this company. I immediately call Malty Milt Head who used to work for this exact company to say "Help me! Tell me how to get this job!" So between now and Monday... I have to become uber-corporate drug cheerleader. Yay drugs! or Just say no... unless you are asking your dealer (I mean doctor!) if you can have the stuff you saw on TV.

But the line comes in... as he is calming me down... he says "It's going to be great K. You interview well, you really do. Plus it helps that about 5,000 post for every single one of those jobs. You have had your resume looked at and picked... so now you are in the realm of about 500... and then you had it picked for 2 positions... that is quite impressive."

and yet... an interview does not make an employed drug rep. So he is telling me how and what to research and how and what I am going to be asked, and how and what my responses are to be. This would be uber fantastic.

Am I less excited about the last interview w/ different company today? Nope. If I get an offer from them would I take it? Yep. and still interview for Drug rep? Yep.

Why you ask (you know better than to ask) because July 2nd I have to go back to the job I have. The one I am still getting paid for. As I do not actually go and instead neglect you guys. and the only reason I want to walk into that building is to pack up my piddly things and leave my badge on my bosses desk with a note that says "Please consider this my notice of resignation. Thank you." sign and date.

and new job will hold me through drug processing on the off chance it is not offered to me. So since July 2 is the date that LSAT results are posted... it is the most anticipated date of the season!

Wish me luck. Oh and bat girl is going to have a baby girl. She says as she packs up to move to PA. that is just wrong. sad face for the moving of the bat-girl. :(

You know those people who grow up speaking Spanish at home thier whole lives...

... and then get to high school or college and take a Spanish class and barely make a "B"?

If people at my house spoke spanish... that would be me.

Updates. Scheduled to go back to work on July 2nd. DK has called everyday and talked to the voicemail A LOT. bastard.

With LSAT and Socrates behind me... the new hobby is the formal learning of Hindi... lest I need it one day. I am using the Rosetta Stone. We'll see how this goes.

Mom did it to me again. Yesterday was Father's Day... she guilted me into mandir again, and had me pump her gas. I got back in the truck and told her I was not so comfortable doing anything else in Indian clothes than going to and from function. She was surprisingly understanding. Minus the "you need to be more comfortable with yourself" blah blah. That is another battle for another day.

I have a date this afternoon. I don't really like him, and I don't like that he is 22. But in the interest of gaining insight and experience... off we go. He is the kitchen manager of a great restaurant downtown (c'mon you knew that) so he can cook well... which is always a plus. and works with a guy who bartended at a sister bar at the same time I did. He is now the General Manager of same restaurant. Whenever I see him out he is still super sweet to me.

JB and I saw him out on the infamous night of drinking. He picked up our tab and I don't know how I got his friend's number but there was lots of begging. Plus I was pissed at DK. so I will entertain at least one outing. Nothing serious. late lunch and a movie. I text to see what and where. He leaves me voice mail about "we are going to see whatever YOU want to see. We will go wherever YOU want to go". So he gets points there.

I want to like him. I do. But I don't.

Last interview scheduled for Wednesday for a position I really want. This is #3 with a regional manager. Between the IQ, personality, recruiter screener, and 2 other intverviews... If I don't get this I will be so pissed.

Dk calls again to say he bought special card to call me so I don't have to spend any money to call him (shockingly that was not going to be a problem from my end) and at only 5 pence a minute, he'll call back! bastard part 2.

The one time I did talk to him, to get him squared away for international travel, I am bobbing through the house... he said something and I say "that is on your list!" for him it is the list of things that will get him smacked. he says "I don't think there is very much that I wouldn't get smacked for right now". He got smacked for that.

Taking grams to the emergency room. again.

"No one will ever love you the way that I do"

The first time I heard that, it was in Hindi. It was from Water Buffalo and a year into dating, we had our 1st fight. and I did not understand. Literally, because my Hindi is sketchy at best... and then figuratively... because how does someone say such a thing... and have it be true.

But it is true.

the 2nd time I heard it was from Buffalo's replacement... and after that from angry individuals. and then from the Dream Killer it was rounded out with that every guy that says so... then walks away and finds the love of his life (or the girl he marries... same thing).

So is it true? yes. no. I guess? I don't know

Fast-forward to I heard something similar come out of my mouth... and I didn't recognize my voice. what I heard was "You just lost the best thing that ever happened to you". Do i know that to be true? That someone has lost the present of my presence? Yes. That he recognizes it at "the best thing that ever happened to him"? He says he does. But he has not the benefit of the doubt. Because there is no doubt... and I could say "Don't Speak" because and his words hold no water. (get it? no doubt... gwen... no?)

It is the illustrious Dream Killer. And understand we are not fighting, we are not quarrelling. There is a facet of his personal life I have been enlightened to... and he has lost the love I had for him.

This week I had lunch with him and his dad... I've told you his dad is someone worth knowing. Truly larger than life... a humble greatness... so a letter of recommendation looks spectacular from him. We have lunch to discuss this, LSAT and the special form for Northwestern and all of the dream schools.

DK says that I am not allowed to go to Chicago. His dad sends him to the bar to get a beer so we can talk. He comes back and his re-entry to the conversation is "I'm not paying for Northwestern!" DK's dad says "K... get the acceptance letter and we will find the money." What you are to walk away with is that DK is telling his parents that I am to be the wife. I excuse myself to the bathroom and weigh the pros and cons of sneaking out the window.

Later that afternoon... His arguably ex (she thought they were dating... he was just f*cking...) is having a problem with someone slashing her tires... she thinks it is akin to my situation. I rather disagree... but I don't know what DK has told her. She contacts me over myspace... which has now been pulled down for that very reason.

I tell her she had the courtesy of one conversation. One. Because I remember what it is to be scared out of your skin... and feel crazy. and not be able to talk to anyone else because you think that they will also think you are friggen crazy. So we have coffee. and we talk. and I take the number of her investigator and tell her she can call me if she needs me.

Her car was set on fire. She says DK has been around her stuff a lot. DK didn't do it, 1. a lot of the times stuff happens to her, he is with me. 2. the self-involved ego-maniac is too self involved. 3. He professes his undying love daily. constantly. emphatically... and is trying to make himself whole to be worthy of my love. so he says...

Except that last week she took him to lunch and he pitched for a relationship. why does that sentence look familiar... yes boys and girls... because I was given the very same pitch.

I call and ask... he confirms and finishes with "K! no, K! please listen. please talk to me... I said that to her because I was trying to f*ck her..." (hint... that did not make this better). So I am sick and nauseous with betrayal and contempt. No, I didn't want a relationship with him... but if you hear something long enough.. you kind of start to believe it. and I at least thought he was different that the foul-ness that abounds. no, not so much.

He is not mine and I did not want him to be, so the big girl stance is that this is a portion of his personal life that is not my business. The petulant child in me got taken out by the Jenny Bear because she was the only one I could cry to who has been there the entire time and whose opinion had any weight.

I drank and obnoxious amount of scotch and showed up at his house at like 3 am. In my mind... the way this worked out was that I was going to break everything in his house. The reality was a bit different.

*bang bang bang* (me knocking on the door)
He let me in.
I drank water in between scotches.. I had to pee like a race horse.
I come back to the dining room- he is sitting on the other couch... trying to wake up.

I say (i meant to scream... but that's not how it came out)... I am hurt. You hurt me. Say something to make it better, say something to make it stop. Say something to make me think you have ever cared about me. ever.
He says ... nothing.
I say... I came here with the express purpose of breaking sh*t.
He says "let me find Amel (1 of 2 cats I adopted for him) first... she is skittish with loud noises"

I say... I don't rightly remember... I was angry and slammed out of the house. He follows me out to ask me to stay... I was too intoxicated to drive. and I should have stayed. but I did not. I came home. and woke up and put the anger behind me. He is not mine, he is not for me. But there were pieces that I thought understood me... and if not even he is decent... how will I ever find someone I can trust? how?

I know some guys are great... I've known too many who are... but apparently not for me. I wasn't sleeping with him... and even he was not good. I am not angry, but I am still sad. I am not going to Houston because my back hurt too bad just driving the 45 min to Hammond, how could I do 5 hours to Houston. ugh. and he leaves for London tomorrow. good riddance.

This morning I killed a roach... this afternoon a met a roach.

The title line is actually true. Don't be grossed out... it was one of those outside roaches that burrows under my tangerine tree.

I feel the need to put this out there... before Kaplan releases it... the 3rd section was the experimental. It was the reading comp... I got to say the last section kicked my bum. True to form I finished all of the Games...and had time to double check.

Today was funny...

This morning DK tells me that he is still at Southern because they kicked out his registration for this summer. He is supposed to be leaving for London (study abroad) on Saturday. We are supposed to go to Houston Friday-ish and I take big-boy jeep back on Sunday.

So it matters TODAY...because he was supposed to drive me to Hammond. No worries. I Map-quested. I can find it myself. I was told in enough time to get good and lost. and that is what I did.

I did however find the Marines recruiting office in Hammond. The little guy tried to tell me where Southeastern's campus was... and I got further lost. I found a Storage Center and a nice old lady who let me use the restroom and gave me "better directions". I got even further lost and pulled up next to a cop at a stop light. I rolled the window down and asked for directions... He put on the sirens and let me follow him to SLU. So I had a police escort. yay.

I find campus and then try to find the building. I go round and round looking for parking... because I am used to LSU... where you towed from almost everywhere... and eventually found the wrong building. and a secretary who spun me around to the right direction and right building.

Found the building and room. It is by alphabetical order so the other R's are in my room. The room had real table tops... and few people spread out. Not nearly at cramped at LSU. To double check the roll, the oldest proctor in the world calls out our last name. The guy that sat one row over... his last name was "ROACH". I busted out laughing. and ONLY I busted out laughing. Which made me laugh harder. Like a crazy person.

The worst part is that ROACH was really cool. He brought like 12 sharpened pencils to the exam... I had only brought 1. He kept dropping them. He gave me 2 of them. It was nice.

So I got to take the drive home. I want a taco. I am starving. My air conditioning broke and the air condition-fixing people called to say they were on there way. We got here about the same time. I was never so happy to see anyone! (recently, at least). Turns out that it was just a busted voltage regulator and not a busted compressor like another air condition-fixer person had led me to believe. I gave him a Gatorade for his ride home... so now I have no bill for the fixing of my air-conditioning- fixing. yay Gatorade.

Going to get my taco.

Besos.

Malibu Barbie vs. Indian Barbie

Lots to write so I will try to be brief (I said TRY!).

Once upon a time I took a Finance class in college that was miserable. After the 1st day I didn't want to go back. The professor was from Pakistan and was a complete jerk. He used to call me Malibu Barbie. Not in a "you are so pretty" kind of way... but in a "you are so stupid" kind of way. I tell my roommates... they sympathize and say he's just angry because I am Indian Barbie and he looks like a ogre.

The pics are both Indian Barbie... I am more the browner of the 2. We've talked about the Indian standard of beauty. This is what makes me not.

Tie in to this morning. I sit for LSAT tomorrow, so I am in mandir (church) today. I rode with mom, she mentioned that she wanted to pick up a few things... I thought I would have time to change after mandir. not so much.

The pic of Indian Barbie on the left is wearing a sari... mom wore a sari... but you don't usually walk around w/your head covered... so that part is kind of flowy. I wore a salwar kameez (the one of the right) with out the nose thing it was sleeveless. left the head covering piece (dupatta) in the car. My nose is not pierced... and you only wear the nose thing on your wedding day. I did have a bindi though (dot... for those of you who only know it as that... it is the dot)

After mandir, we go to the international store. I am PSYCHED because that means there is international SODA there. (i don't know why I SODA is capped... but it is). and then the real grocery store... and I am not so ok with this.

You know those little Wal-Marts that are just food stores... that are trying to look more like Whole Foods... We went to one of those... and I didn't want to get out of the car. Mom is like... "what are you waiting for? Christmas?"... and I start to say "I can't go in there like this!"... but I don't. because I know my mom...she would leave me in the car and go shopping for an hour. on purpose.

So I suck it up and try to get the stuff on her list as quickly as possible. and I feel so awkward. People stare... they nudge other people to stare. I am avoiding eye contact because it is just so weird. and I am so mad at myself for feeling so out of place. Especially as I hear myself telling DK once about how much of my childhood "all I wanted was to be like everybody else"... so that would be more Malibu than Indian.

I am not ashamed to be Indian. not by any stretch of the imagination... and it's not like I can hide it... Even the girl at Taco Bell (yes I occasionally eat Taco Bell) says "You look foreign". My foreign-ness is all over my skin and facial features. and the hair is a dead give away.

But there is a difference when you walk out into the world in full "ethnic dress" (and I hate those words). at Indian functions it is expected that this is what you wear, I just don't want to go anywhere else in it. and you can preach at me until you are blue in the face about not being comfortable with myself... and I'll take that... but you think about people differently when they walk around in clothes that are obviously not from here.

Admit it! I know you do it! There are Muslim women at my gym that work out in the head

scarves (hajib if you don't know it) and even I kind of look away. or make it a point to look like I don't notice it. but I do. and you do too.

Didn't get to the rest of the stuff I meant to post. I guess this looks like a bigger bit of rant than I thought I would need. ick.

Blink.

It's a book. by the author of the Tipping Point. and like the Tipping point, it is a relaxing, interesting, easy read. and makes a good point about the split second decisions that we make, and how we sort of tend to stick to them... and why they are good.

which leads me to think of my own split-secondness (?!).

Yesterday was the loudest day ever. Everywhere I tried to study was obnoxiously loud. Everywhere I tried to hide, people talked to me. It's crunch time, I cannot study at home.

Starbucks... I didn't really want anything... but I wanted something to drink (and I was fussy... turned out to be a sinus headache). My barista is super excited to explain what a "Strawberries and cream frappacino" is... but it has not coffee. but he can add a shot of espresso. I say "give me that" to shut him up. He is so happy... I did not want to impart my bad mood upon him. He makes it... it's gross. I keep this information to myself.

I tried to test but the damn Paul McCartney music is too loud. I don't like the new McCartney. All about the Beatles... not so much just the Paul. It's cool... I suspect he is not too crazy about me either.

My barista comes and sits down next to me... and I am looking at him like he has grown an extra head. "Don't you love it! Tell me you love it! I told you this was going to be a special special day for you!" He's just so excited. I smile and fake sip my drink. (I forgot to mention that I am lactose intolerant... and he gave me a bigger size to make room for the whipped cream. ick) So I left.

It's the middle of the day and I figured I could hide in the cardio room at the gym. Who is really there at like 230-3? Hardly anybody. Plus I have sufficiently put my Bama issues to rest. So he's nice, I'm nice... its all superficially friggen nice. :)

So I am there... there are kids at camp... they do whatever they do. I get through 1/2 a set of args... I look up and Shy is talking to me. I mouth a curse word and take the ear plugs out. Shy is telling me about a potential position in the field I went to school for. I should listen to this. He wants me to meet the guy over drinks. I stop listening. I explain that I will do coffee but not drinks... and not at the young-professional bar he is suggesting. why? Perception is reality... and I don't want this guy to think that there is anyway I could possibly want him (he's 40-something and single). Shy keeps talking. I invite him to walk the outdoor track w/me for a while if he insists on talking. I thought he would get hot, pass out, and shut up... in that order.

So we are walking. it is 90-some-odd degrees outside. You know what I took away from that conversation...He says I am single because I need open myself up to the possibility of a relationship. I tell him I do not want one with him and I never will. He laughs. We now have a running joke... "that is on your list" i.e. what you just said is on the list of things that I will curse you out for saying. He says that once I told him that I was having a bad day because my cycle started... and it is gross for a guy to envision that .... so that was on my list. fair enough.

obviously I have forgiven his indiscretion. why? because I have had to ask for forgiveness for bad behavior and foot in mouth also. Maybe not from him. but in general.

on to Blink... know what I have split second decided a million years ago that I should have stuck too?

1. DK is not for me. I will never marry him, I will never date him, again. Why? no matter how good he is for how long... I look at the man that he is... at his core with contempt. and that makes for not a good marriage. and he is never going to change. eventually I would hate him.

2. I am not afraid of marriage. I very much want to. and have kiddies. but I do not want to get divorced. and I do not want to be a single mom.

3. Bama was never for me. and no matter how much I wanted to make out of a bad interaction... that it could lead to a decent relationship... there was never anything there for me. and that is not a bad thing.

4. I have to remember to be humble enough to not take it personally that someone may not want to date me if I want to date them. It should not be so ego-crushing.

5. Making money is not the most important driving force in my life. I cannot mobilize the energy and focus I put into things that drive me... like LSAT... into things like... find way to get rich.

6. grew some balls and had a hard conversation w/mom that I do not want an Indian guy just because we would make the right colored babies. and that one day if I had to choose between her or the person I was sure I could make a life with... I would have to choose life.

ugh. and how unfortunate that these basic stances just didn't change. also... true to form... DK tried to pick a nasty fight last night. he doesn't realize he does this before anything big. (like he has done before both lsats) this time I say "have a nice evening" and get off the phone. He calls back-nothing. he texts. nothing. he calls a couple of times today. nothing. eventually he remembers I had another interview today, he texts good luck - i tell him about it. I also tell him that if is a negative and not a positive, he will get put to the side until I have the spare time to coddle his B.s. and it may not happen. He is still driving me to Hammond- he just doesn't get to talk.

My Happy Place.

Along with the strategy outlined for LSAT, I am to have a happy place on reserve for when I am speed bubbling. To focus on something other than the questions to give me a mini-break. So you don't get so mentally fatigued. Because I have to rock this test. In case I did not mention that before.

and it's my 3rd time taking it.

Because I dropped the last time.

On to the place o' Happy. The pic is my niece. A few years ago (about 3-ish) my niece and my 2 nephews spent the summer here. We rocked out. They had swimming lessons, gymnastic lessons, soccer, reading, dance... you name it, we did it. They make me think I can have kids and not send them to therapy. Mom and I don't get to see them often. It breaks my heart. My sister does not have custody (though she is still technically married) because she is a f*ck-wit.

But amidst the activities of that summer was a hot-air balloon festival...complete with a rock climing wall. The kiddies wanted to do it, I let them. The boys (7 and 3 at the time) punked out quickly. so did a couple of teen-agers. all that was left hanging on was Adina, my niece. She made it to the top. She rang the siren and I cannot tell you how proud I was of her. It was especially an achievement because they are not really athletic, besides recess at school they don't get to do much. and they were all seriously mal-nourished when they got here. She made it to the top by sheer will.

She is 6 in this picture. The dress she is wearing is made for a healthy 3 year old. Reason #1 billion and 6 that my sister is a f*ck-wit. I miss them, I miss them terribly.

Yesterday I elipti-glided and did abs w/the step class. The Mexican's son is here for the summer from Texas. We have met. and like the other children who spend time at the gym for camp and lessons... he gets used to some adults. Like me. He runs over to give me a hug and ask for gum... and tell me about his day. and I scoop him up and hold him too tight. I think one day he will stop coming to me for fear I hug the life out of him... but he reminds me of my babies.

Fast forward to this morning I am picking up cards from Rite Aide because I am not my mother and I believe you can buy someone a non-Hallmark card and get pretty much the same effect... and there are stickers. and I briefly consider buying some for the baby-Mexican. Like Yug-I=Oh or something. But I don't know what he is in to. and I don't want to get it wrong... kids are funny about that kind of stuff...

and then I wonder... what is the point of stickers? There are "activity books" but what activity comes from them? really? and my kiddies used to love to get stickers... and proceed to stick them all over my moms house which brought out the wrath of Chee-tor. and I am nearly brought to tears in the middle of Rite Aide.

DK's assessment... "Umm... yeah, is it close to THAT time of month?" No. "Maybe you feel like your life is not fulfilling or you are not fulfilling it fast enough". Maybe. Or maybe the children of the world need to stop being nice to me. grrr.

LSAT for dummies

ok kiddies... here's the LSAT strategy... because when you go into battle you need a strategy.

I have to take it at Southeastern University. So the Dream Killer is taking me and driving back. Because SLU is in Hammond, and I've never been to Hammond. and LSAT day is NOT the day to get lost. LSU was full and I am too much of a snob to take it at Southern. Why? because the last testing at Southern produced the following horror stories:

1. Right before the exam the head proctor said "This is the most important thing you will ever do in your life. BEGIN!"oh, ok. no stress there.
2. Four of the proctors in another room held conversations amongst themselves.The whole time What about? WHO FRIGGIN CARES!
3. They did not give 5 min warnings and did not call time on the last section. So the people in the back got 3 extra minutes to finish.

For those of you who do not understand the special brand of crazy this exam elicits... let me enlighten you.

3 35 min sections (1 doesn't count... you don't know which one) then a 10 min break. Then 2 more 35 min sections that both count. and a writing portion that more and more schools are looking at. You don't have enough time to do the questions and they are written in such a way that requires a whole new way of thinking. and you have to do it FAST. ugh.

My only cool horror story is this:
The 1st time I took in, last June. You have to copy a statement "I am taking this exam for the sole purpose of applying to law school...etc." basically that you are not teaching for like princeton or another exam prep... you have to write it in cursive and sign it.

A guy screams "F*CK I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE IN CURSIVE!" and storms out.

So Princeton Review... sage advice that my teacher gives us for test day...(this is actual advise, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried)

1. The exam is at 1, you have to be there for 1230. If you normally sleep until noon... start getting up earlier.
2. During the break-eat something. It doesn't matter what. a candy bar and drink a coke. You won't crash from a sugar rush in an hour (technically at that point we have an hour and 45 min left)... but don't eat something heavy.... like steak. Do not try to eat a steak in 10 minutes. (always good advice I think)
3. DO NOT pick test day to try Ritalin or Aderol for the 1st time. (nice!)
4. If you get stuck sitting next to the foot-tapping guy... raise your hand and ask the proctor to ask the foot-tapper to stop. If you talk to anyone for any reason it constitutes cheating.
5. DO NOT curse out the test proctors under any circumstances for any reason.
6. If you get to the last section w/a few minutes left and you have a couple of questions left... and you have to go to the bathroom...bubble in what you can before you ask to leave. Even if you have to pee on yourself. You will never see those people again, it will only be embarrassing for a minute... those few questions could be 3 points.
7. DO NOT try to guess which of the 1st 3 sections doesn't count. You have no idea. and if you guess wrong... you could drop 20-something points.

This is what $1200 buys these days.

so back to strategy:
all of the games. it's my best section. last practice I got them all.
20 args. the section is about 23-26. I've been shooting for 23 and scoring 20s. This week is pacing so I trying to get up to 23. but if I had to do it today, it would be 20.
3/4 reading passages. plus one of the passages is the new unreleased questions. so we have no idea (ok well we have SOME idea what it will look like) and have never tried one. So again, sticking to what I know.

Going to the gym for a bit of hot tub and maybe step. no circuit still. Yimmy lesser tried to kill me today. but there was coffee involved. Paul (the other PT) and the intern are laughing at me. They think I am spolied b/c Yimmy still feels bad about making a point. I respect him more for it. Though I would not so much tell him.

Theme:Desi Rock - DJ Swami get it people. You got this? I got this. This is what we do to get the dream school. It's gonna work. It has to. Please dear God, let this be enough.

From now on please refer to me as Betty BadAss.

I get to therapy this morning and Yimmy greets me with coffee. This is weird by itself. Then he says:

"Good Morning, BadAss. How are you Ms. BadAss. Hope you had a good weekend because you are not going to have a good morning. Ready to see how much of a BadAss you really are?"



So the chronology of being ratted out went so:
1. DK talked to mom-told her I tried to circuit
2. Mom called my ortho- told him I tried to circuit
3. Ortho called Yimmy- suggested Yimmy demonstrate why I am not ready to circuit.
4. Yimmy is trying to kill me.


In addition to my workout of about an hour. He does the plank test... where you hold plank position for as long as you can. my best is 2 1/2 min. today? 35 seconds.


Then superman stretches on a Swiss ball (big medicine ball) 4 sets of 15 reps. I was literally on the verge of crying 1/2 through set 2. Yimmy sits on a ball next to me and says "Focus on the breathing. Take your time, and you are not getting up until you finish my sets". It took everything I had not to cry.


By the end of my torture session the intern wrapped me up in a heating pad and Yimmy brings me cold water to make amends. I am pointedly not speaking to him. He bounces beach balls off my head as he explains I am out for 4 more weeks and if I ever try that again, he will try to kill me again.


The way he sees it... I will either listen to him and heal over time... or he will 1/2 kill me and I will morph into Spider-Woman. Except with no super powers. Rat bastard.

Bobby Jindal for Governor!

So... for the most part this girl does not DO politics. I have opinions... I express them... I am not trying to change your mind about anything.

Further, Madigan used to be an assistant to one of the Governor's Aides. Yes the stupidest woman in politics... Ms. Kathleen-which Liz Claiborne suit should I wear to cry on national television- Babino Blanco. Madigan tried to get me to go to a bunch of functions with a bunch of State legislators. No.

Let me tell you why.

What Madigan got invited to, and by definition what she was trying to drag me to, were the events that legislators are not so much bringing their wives to. I.e. girls like Madigan ARE the entertainment. I try to tell her, she called me jealous. Ok. have your party and tell me about it later.

Plus at the one event we went to... a BBQ cook-off out in the swamp, we were accosted by a slimy lobbyist for an energy company who said the foulest stuff to me. I was on the verge of telling him where to stick it, and Madigan is in my ear begging me not to. I had to leave. In the car she goes on and on about how powerful he is and that he could help Madigan get a better job etc. etc. and then the icing on the non-cake was "besides you are a beautiful girl. you're going to have to learn how to handle sexual harassment. and cursing people out is not an option". In a way I see her point, but she saw if differently when it was directed at her. Does it seem like I should have recognized that she was not a good friend?

So the world of politics looks slimy to me.

Fast forward to somewhere with a bunch of people... the Politician (not Bobby) is told I am LSAT-ing to go to law school. He makes the requisite jokes and says "I can see that. You'd make a great lawyer. I'd hire you in your 2nd year of school". So now I have to help w/ his campaign. Not because I would necessarily call him on that offer... but you never know.

But it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. and like an Oprah moment a light bulb goes off... If I want to be affiliated w/a campaign... why not Bobby? He's Indian, I'm Indian... at the very least the slime factor should be hella less... my mommiey knows his mommiey! (and I used to call his dad "hooty owl" when I was little because he had a small face and huge glasses).

He's incredibly intelligent and will be Governor if people here forget to be racist for like 2 elections. Don't judge me... I'm not wrong.

Plus... the proverbial icing a-la-mom says that if I should come in contact w/slime in his camp... I could intimate that we are related... after all I do call his mom "auntie"! (all older people are Auntie or Uncle and they in turn call me Bhati... it means Daughter. It is the figurative village meant to raise every child).


So I signed up on his website... and I will keep you abreast of what happens (also I got 10 Bobby bucks for signing up... WTF? really Bobby? really?)

"I'm telling!"

When was the last time that this was a viable threat? Think about it, really. When was the last time you were stopped from doing or saying something simply because you knew that someone would tell?

Onwards. Today DK got stood up by text message. which is less awful than it sounds, he didn't make it campaign either. Also, as I did not go out last night, Tourette's didn't drive and asked if she could call me if she needed a ride- I say yes. I fell asleep and luckily she did not call. DK is smarting over yesterdays flake, today's flake, and that he is convinced if he called and asked for such a favor I would leave him to his own devices (that is entirely possible. he is a boy. he can handle himself.)

I promised mom I would take her to Target to print India pics today as she is STILL afraid of the Kodak machine. As I bounce around the house waiting for her to get ready, DK calls. We talk, he sympathizes that my back hurts, and he coos over my "condition".

Then he says... "wait a minute! You are hurt because you are over-extending yourself and you went to circuit yesterday! Put your mom on the phone, I'M TELLING!" I say no. He threatens to call the house. I call his bluff.

Mom flits by and mouths "who is that?" I say DK... she wants to talk. Nice.

So I got ratted out. Mom is ready to go, she doesn't say anything about talking to DK until pic # 389 of 467... know what she said?

"I'm not even going to fuss at you. Monday morning I am going to call your orthopedist. and I'm telling." (what does she think he is going to do exactly? Apparently he's been my ortho since I was 3. We have history. He does not so much fuss at me.)

My snarky comeback? "Does that mean you will not play intermediary as the Muscle Relaxer Fairy who brings me samples so I don't have to get a prescription?"

Nope. She is still my mommiey. her kindly gesture to reiterate "stop doing that"?... She made me shrimp fried rice w/peas. I have the greatest mom... who is the greatest at guilting. No circuit this week. (but that was all I promised... and don't think you can just tell on me and get whatever you want... she is still on TEAM KIRAN.) stupid narc-ing dream killer.

Golden Flake

So that is me. Last night was supposed to make it out downtown... was gonna go after the gym but by the time I got home from gym and showered... no ma'am. this girl was not going anywhere. Plus last week, I was out every night. That was too hard. I made it to therapy and crawled into a corner with a heating pad.

DK was not on his side of town. When informed of the aforementioned flaking on my part he says... "Well I waited for 2 hours to hear from you. we are ALL on your time sched... and this better not be because you went to circuit!" ok, we will say that is not why. (that is SO why).

Apparently I pulled something that is around or behind your shin. It is getting better and feels better if I only use the elliptical machine, I can even do step... but no running. and circuit involves lots of not nice to me running.

As I walk out I see my boss's boss walking in. I speak. I don't like her. I am reminded that I do not want to go back to my job. I would say that hunt proceeds in earnest but LSAT is one week away from Monday. so for the most part we are shutting down until next Sunday.

This morning I am not campaigning. My back is too tight and I know I won't be able to stand for a couple of hours at a time. and I don't want to be that girl that has to find a chair or leave early... or find something else to do. Why? because it looks weak. and I would rather not go than look weak... and my time would be better spent fine tuning lsat.

Goober alert.

guy I knew from high school who was working on his masters in philosophy has taken time off from that to to focus on his "music career". For those of you who know him- stop laughing.

In an effort to gain some street cred he now has dred-locks. As he is telling me this on the phone, he points out that I probably won't like them (that is true) , I probably won't go anywhere with him (also true but not because of the locks) and that it hurtful for someone you think is attractive to not think that you are (so that would be accurate as well... i don't think he is attractive but it is not the physical that makes me says so).

His undergrad is in journalism. that mixed with his 'music career' has led him to producing a mornng show on a local radio station. It's the soft rock station. As he is telling me about it, I say I have found it before... they play Streetcorner Symphony and the raincoat song. He laughs and says Raincoat is by Kelly Sweet. He tells me to listen on a certain morning and sure enough the tacky DJ dedicates the Raincoat song to me.

:)

Masters in Philosphy is still a no. He's cynical and intense and kind of grabby. plus he yelled at me and told me that I hate men. anyway... here ya go.