The Worst Kind of Fan

The worst kind of fan is one who wields their season pass status as an indication that they are better than you. The worst kind of fan is one who talks disparagingly about their own home team the whole game saying things like "they've got no killer instinct--they suck" or "oh come on, I've got more balls than they do!" or "they're going to lose right here--I guarantee it" over and over and over. The worst kind of fan is one who would rather have an unobstructed view of the game for the two seconds it takes you to get to your seat right as the game starts than to exercise some human decency. The worst kind of fan sat behind me and my friends at the Sharks game today.

But we managed to have fun (and even sometimes lean forward in our seats juuusttt the slightest bit without getting yelled at) regardless. 

Lost in the South Bay

Scene 1: wandering around a dark cul-de-sac with MB in Palo Alto while carrying a big cake. MB is asking shadowy figures that materialize from the darkness where to find 18 Brooks Place (not real location, obv). K tries calling W, J, L, and KS. Finally, MB picks up.

K: Hello? Hey where are you guys?
MZ: Third apartment on the left when you turn in.
K: What... [looks around at the very nice houses]
MZ: Hold on, I'll run out and look for you guys..... okay I don't see you.
K: It's 18 Brooks place... Palo Alto right?
MZ: No, it's Menlo Park.
K: Oh, we're in Palo Alto

Scene 2: MB and K get back into MB's car and start driving over to Menlo Park meanwhile joking that at least they didn't end up in East Palo Alto or somewhere potentially sketchier than the upscale neighborhood that was Brooks pl., PA. Halfway there K gets a call from W.

W: Hey, sorry I didn't pick up, I was driving.
K: No problem, we were just lost but we figured it out already
W: Oh okay good, yeah we're a bit far we're walking around 300something Brooks Street. What's the address again?
K: It's 18 Brooks Place. We actually accidentally thought it was Palo Alto.
W: Oh that's funny
K: No one told us it was actually in Menlo Park!
W: ...... Wait. We're in Mountain View.

Eventually we all arrived an hour after we were supposed to. But it was a fun night sans getting lost. Happy Bday L!

Berkeley Wanderings pt. 3

On Wednesday I had no class and decided to spend my afternoon taking a leisurely walk to Solano Ave. My sun-starved eyes were in shock from the brightness outside but I managed to discover a few interesting things regardless.

There were a lot of toy/game stores along the way. It took all my restraint not to wander into each of them.

Maybe I can ride one of these tricycles to burning man

I found the sister cellar to the North Berkeley wine shop that I frequent. Took a look around the shop, definitely more expensive than the North Berkeley one.

There was a wine bar in there that I passed up for the time being...

Eventually I found my way to a middle eastern deli. Everything looked delicious but I settled on buying a bottle of tahini (for my babaganoush) and four falafel balls (that quickly became three) for dinner.

Tasty little corner shop

Nice hot falafel ball? Yes please. 

On the walk back I gave in and decided to try a flight at Solano cellars. The red flight of the week was themed on "must" weight--a concept that was new to me. The higher the must weight, the higher the alcohol content.

The Melville was really good. Didn't get much reading done on my novel though.

There was a wine rep present who was trying to sell wines to the cellar.
They got to try at least 5 pours of wines and spit all of them out and then poured out the dregs.
Nooo! I'll be the wine receptacle. 

The shop owners were quite nice and the female one definitely warmed up to me after I bought a bottle. The concept of different weekly wine flights is fun though and although it is a 30 minute walk from my place it is only a 5 minute bus ride. Maybe I'll bring some friends next time and share the discoveries of my wandering.

In other news--I've settled on a summer job for 2015! I'm staying in the bay, and days like yesterday only served to reaffirm this decision.  

OCI -- aka. only Berkeley students could make this process this relatively painless

I like interviews because I like talking to people. I always prefer interviews to cover letters or written exams or anything of that sort. Never in my life, however, have I had to do 13 interviews in 3 days (15 total, luckily Thursday and Friday are light). And that number, I've heard, is on the lower side. During WorldMUN I interviewed upwards of 60 people, but it's always different when you're on the interviewing side of the table. Trying to not look bored when your 5th interviewer of the day is going on about a very niche part of the law is tough.

I've had some great interviews and some not-so-great interviews, as is to be expected. Since I'm spending my downtime in a room of 7 other people going through the interview process I get to hear their stories as well.

Some of my own not-so-great experiences:
- The interviewer plays with a pile of staples during the interview and then proceeds to openly yawn while I talk about my time during the World Cup in Cape Town (okay, if that's not interesting to you, I don't know what is). He also describes his firm's culture as "a bunch of really intelligent and high strung people who don't really know how to get out of each other's way." Great, great sell.
- One interviewer who is clearly confused by the narrative I'm trying to tell and asks "wait, so you wanted to write a thesis ... about dancing?" No, well sort of yes, but no. Where is the ctrl+z to this interview?

Some stories I've heard from others:
- An interviewer who is almost verbally abusive to an interviewee because he just hates her prior employer (and it's an employer who everyone usually loves, yikes)
- Limp fish handshakes (this must be a pet peeve)
- Interviewers who just stare at transcripts at the beginning of the interview and then decide based on that whether or not you are hirable

All in all nothing too crazy, but I guess the "not-so-great" interview stories just go to show how amicable the interviewers are. I've had great conversations that range from lessons from Japan to "North American Mega Cap Funds." One woman loved my breakdancing experiences and another female attorney confided that women were going to take over the universe.

I come home every day pretty exhausted, but it's been a unique and definitely informative experience. Who a firm sends to be the "embodiment" of their culture/practice speaks volumes more than I could find on any website. Two more interviews this week and then it's on to callbacks... wish me luck.

The Ocean and Me

This weekend I am going to Monterey to complete my dive certification. I am both excited and a bit anxious.
 
I have always lived near the ocean and considered it a calming force in my life. In high school, I spent a week in a rural area of Mexico, along the cost. Every day we lounged around the beach or snorkeled in the clear waters, and every night we would get on small fishing boats in 3 hour intervals (midnight, 3 am, 6 am) to check if we caught any sea turtles in our net (to treat any wounds they might have, measure them, and tag them for research—I got to name one of the turtles “Kattachu”). At first, during the boat rides I would hang on desperately to the seat of the boat and feel each wave as the impact of my butt hitting metal. But by the end of the trip I felt as though I could predict the crests and troughs of each wave and thoroughly enjoyed my time in and on the water.

In Boston, I hardly ever saw the ocean but knowing it was nearby was enough. One of my favorite spots was at the ICA museum in a hallway bereft of art but graced instead with ceiling to floor windows that overlooked the ocean. I saw it once in the rain, with the trails of water running down the windows and the drops gently dissipating into the sea and the image stays with me still.

When I spent a year in Japan and felt lost or overwhelmed I would walk a few minutes to the breakwater and look out over the ocean. The smell of the salt water and the cool breeze would always center me—yet I was looking out over the same ocean that devastated the lives of thousands of people in the community I was helping to rebuild. Their relationship with the ocean was even more complex since they made their livelihood fishing and farming in it. The sea was at once a provider and destroyer.

Yet after just two pool sessions in scuba diving I had begun to develop another side to my relationship with the sea. Sitting at the bottom of a 12 foot pool for the first time and looking up at how far the surface was induced a mild panic attack that made me want to swim to the surface as fast as possible and take in huge breaths (not gulps, which is mouth breathing, but nostril breaths because breathing through the nose is a luxury on the surface) of fresh air.

I suppose I’ll have more thoughts on this after I actually do my open ocean dives this weekend, but whatever happens it’ll surely deepen the relationship I have with this vastly complex body of water.

Upon the Fields of Justice

Dear Diary,

It has been a few weeks since I have arrived on the fields of justice. I have undergone several changes in roles, but I think I am settling into my current role as an archer. My friends are all in higher ranks and so the enemies are tough. Often I am lost and unsure of what to do, but it is in those times that can turn to my friends who give me sage advice like "just stay there" or "just try not to die." I am lucky to have such caring friends.

Every battle is a struggle, some ending in the elation of victory, but most ending in the sting of defeat. Through it all I continue to learn life lessons, such as:

• Pick your battles: unless you know you can win them, don't engage
• Running away is always safe, but sometimes you need to pay attention and help your homies
• There's safety in numbers: when in doubt, run with the pack
• Don't forget to refer to the map, it's important
• Always follow whatever A.C. says 
• Don't let the haters get you down

In Justice we Trust,

Sherwood Ashe

Talk on purpose and self actualization vis-a-vis law

You come from a good college, go to a good law school, and enter a prestigious firm. You try and become the best first year associate you can be, then the best second year, then third year, then you try to make partner. Years down the line you're partner at a prestigious firm, you're in your mid 40s, and you realize you have finally crossed the finish line of chasing after the next best thing.

But what if that next best thing was never the next best thing for you? You finished the race, but it was the wrong race.