My spillful life.

I'm kindof notorious for my spillage abilities. In high school I had a coach who called me "Mouth" because there was water all down the front of my jersey after every water break.

The reason I have a functioning computer at all is partially because I only drink from water bottles at my desk and keep them closed any time I'm not drinking from them. Although even that's not guaranteed (see below when water bottle gently leaked into everything in my bag including a week's worth of casebook readings).

Another time I had to call in sick to work because I was bringing my breakfast to my room and as I walked through the door my glass of milk went deluging EVERYWHERE. I mean everywhere. I was really glad that I elevate my laptop on a cooling stand because everything on my desk was soaked in milk. I had to call in sick because it wound up taking me two hours to clean it all up!

Oh and this one time. I was riding shotgun in my mom's new Benzer and we stopped at Baskin Robbins for milkshakes. I had the cardboard drink holder in my lap with our two milkshakes in it caddy corner. Of course when I took my cup out the box plus mom's shake tipped forward onto the floor where my feet were. But whew it's a thick milkshake with a lid so barely any spilled. BUT THEN when I leaned forward to pick it up I forgot about the milkshake in my right hand and as I leaned I also tipped the whole strawberry milkshake into the side door pocket.

Needless to say I'm not really allowed beverage privileges. The Starbucks mug I take on my commute is empty until I get to the cooler at my office.

Anyway what started this lengthy monologue was an incident this morning. Today I was super thirsty heading out the door so I stopped to put in maybe 6 oz. of water into my mug. It's spillproof by the way. We get in the car and I open the sipping lid. The side mirrors are fogged up so I roll down the window and take a napkin from the glove compartment to wipe it down. Then I get the creeping sensation that something is off. WHY OH WHY IS MY CROTCH WET?!?!?!!!!!! Oh right. I opened my spillproof mug and then somehow spilled the whole thing in between my thighs. :( I had to hover with my butt above the seat the whole way to where I get dropped off to take the bus to work. Somehow the water did that magic thing when it creeps up a string that has just one end dipped in the water and it crept up the whole backside of my butt. And my mom tells me my blazer is too short to cover it as I climb out of the car. Great. So glad I look like I have swamp butt so early in the morning.

On that note, Happy Rosh Hashannah!

Do's and Don'ts.

DO try to set a sleep schedule from 11pm to 7am.
DO take properly prescribed Ambien to help set sleep cycle.
DO follow instructions and lie in bed after taking medicine.
DO wake up refreshed and alert after a good night's rest.
DO make a good 2nd impression at previous internship site.
DO take advantage of relationships already in place to learn essential legal skills to get ahead in career.
DO build on known interests and strengths to engage in field of law you find interesting.

DON'T try to stay awake after taking known sleep medication.
DON'T pretend you are a great writer who must share what seems like essential thoughts before embarking on a new phase in life.
DON'T make a fool of yourself with horrific autocorrect and other typos especially when you are a known hyper-critical grammar Nazi.
DON'T fool yourself into thinking blogging under the influence will yield heretofore hidden thoughts and unleash secret talents.
DON'T name your new employer in a drug-addled post so they can fire you before you even begin.

And most of all:
DON'T do drugs, kiddos.

(re)new beginnings?

Today ways lsst day pf freedom. Tomorrow I'm starting my 6-month fellowship at the REDACTED Office of the REDACTED. Secisidng to blog after taking an AmBien was not art and everything ia so difficult right now. Ek I'm surethoa is aess. Cleanup tomorrow!!!

Many many thoughts. Many many many. O wish you could www me phone machine. It's fuzzy like a doll
Monster. Keys are teeth and fuzzy like felt. It's all glowing and shimmering. I think I snood let the drugs do they thang.... Sleepy sleep timesss

An(other?) Honest Confession.

On more than one occasion (and especially by blunt or close friends) I have been engaged in discussing why I act dumber than I am or why I say things that make me seem dumber than I am.  I have been met with the observation that I "dumb [myself] down" and then asked why do I do that.  Usually I give a semi-honest answer: it makes me more approachable/likable. 


I've had problems with "peer relations" for as long as I can remember. I just found my 1st and 2nd grade report cards today. My 2nd grade teacher says of me:

"Christine is a very bright student who has a lot of enthusiasm for learning. She actively participates in group discussions. She works wonderfully independently, but can occasionally be critical towards others when working in a group."

Why am I not surprised? Not much has changed in the past ...math calculating noises... (what year was I in 2nd grade? Oh, geez, has it really been?) ...20 years. At least I'm consistent. The grading system was thus: C = commendable, G = good, S = satisfactory, and N = needs improvement. Needless to say I received at least a C/C+ in everything.

Except the following 3 areas (which shouldn't surprise anyone): Peer relationships, physical education, and music. Now, my lack of skills in physical education and music shouldn't surprise anyone. But what I want to bring attention to is that the lowest grade I received (even of those 3) was in "Peer Relationships."

Honestly, if I had to truly answer why I so often dumb myself down and make myself the "victim" in a crowd, it is because I know that it is really hard to like me.

Don't get me wrong. I know my good traits:
1. I'm loyal to a fault

2. I will personally cut out and give half my liver for a friend

3. I remember every little detail about each of my friends and use those to be the most thoughtful person I know

4. I never/rarely say "no," and 

5. I am really really good at giving great objective advice. 

However, I also know my bad traits:
1. I'm ridiculously stubborn and convinced I am always right

2. I'm the most singularly selfish person I know

3. I'm honest to the level of tactlessness

4. I'm super impatient, and

5. I'm keenly aware of just how smart I am (especially in comparison to the individuals around me).

There. I said it. Here comes the faux pas: I KNOW that I am smart. One of the biggest taboos, it would seem, in our culture.

And herein lies why I feel the need to dumb myself down. Smart people are deemed unapproachable and need some redeeming factor to make them more palatable. Usually an intelligent person who is also well-liked will have one or more of the following traits: niceness, humility, friendliness, and/or wisdom.

Although I am a good person, it turns out that I am not particularly good at being a nice person. And it turns out that I'm neither particularly humble nor wise. Neither am I known for my warmth and friendliness. Actually, I can be downright cold and awkward around strangers. Hmm... so out of the several likable traits an intelligent person must have, I possess... ZERO.

Therefore, I feel the need to dumb myself down. People love the friend they can always make fun of, right? I need to feel a niche and there it is. Someone you can make fun of is approachable, non-threatening. And since I'm so full of myself, I can take all the ribbing thrown at me. The ability to take a good jab is somewhat under-appreciated in my view. I had some more thoughts, but it's already 2am and tonight I was supposed to start setting my internal clock for starting work in a week.

Here you have it, dear readers. In my experience, intelligence alone, is too strong and raw for most people to handle. I'd say intelligence is best-served as a mixed drink; the best mixers being niceness, humility, friendliness, and wisdom. I dumb myself down because I'm not particularly nice, humble, friendly, or wise. My dumbing down is like pineapple juice, a blunt but effective mask for the bitter taste it's meant to hide.