An Open Letter to Dr. Phil

Hi Dr. Phil,

I watched your show today on men being tricked into supporting another man's child. For fair disclosure, I must admit that I'm not a fan of "for the children". I don't particularly like children, nor do I want any of my own. But as a person who was once a child, I must add my two cents.

Despite your last minute disclosure that it's about the kids and not the money, that was not the show you put on TV. Dear Christ, did you even think? You asked the 13-year-old about her feelings, and then decided to ramrod her feelings for the ratings. Did you expect her to break down and cry for daddy? She's damaged enough and will not show her weaknesses.

These men apparently raised their "kids" for a decade. When does the loyalty to the kids appear? The men are so busy being mad about their bank accounts that they're not thinking about the lives they've affected. In 10 years, Dr. Phil, are you going to do a show about the aftermaths of their lives? I doubt it, unless it's to reprise this segment.

I do understand that these men are angry. But, as Judge Judy writes in one of her books, "Love your kids more than you hate each other".

If I have to watch another one of your programs like this, we're going to have to talk.

Love,
C

My Brother Saves Lives

All during the past 10 days or so, the news has been talking about the fires in California. I have friends and family who live in SoCal, so I was really worried. Thank goodness that my BFF B. and my sister and her husband are OK.

My brother lives north of San Diego, where it seemed to be really bad. Yet, recently, he accepted a job working for the Civilian Defense. He called me last night to tell me about his experiences. He was amazing! He was part of the team that coordinated the firefighter and rescue efforts. He told me about trying to manage the teams to protect lives and property. Then, he told me about the efforts to help animals as well.

I could not be more proud to have my brother as a brother. Whatever the news says, I don't care, because the news always seems to focus on what went wrong. I'm just so happy that my family and friends are OK, and really, I'm even more happy that my brother was able to save lives, properties, and animals.

Weakness

I really don't like showing weakness. Weakness to me means letting someone know I need something from that person, especially if I don't know that person.

When I was a girl, I was a Girl Scout. Cookie season was a nightmare for me, because I was supposed to ask people to buy from me. I absolutely hated it. It was one of the reasons I got myself kicked out of the Scouts. Later, in high school, we were supposed to sell magazine subscriptions in order to pay for our graduation activities and fees. I went to my Mom and told her that I couldn't do it. Luckily for me, she agreed, and she paid my expenses that year.

I feel the same way about job searching. I hate having to tell people that I need work. When I read the job descriptions, I think about how well my experiences would fit for that firm. Yet, it never seems to come across on paper.

Today I applied for a job. I'm OK with my resume, but this position required that I answer very direct questions about applying my experience to its needs. I felt so exposed and stupid, because some of the questions I could not answer with as much strength as I thought I could. I don't want to lie to anyone. Still, I know that if I could actually talk to the interviewers, I would have a much better shot.

My hope is that my best reference will help sell me for me. This whole process is so scary.

Decisions

Well, I've been looking at my options. I talked to one of my good friends, who told me to check out government jobs because sometimes the jobs there need legal experience but they don't want a lawyer. Hmmm...I could do that. I also emailed a blogger who graduated from law school but never bothered with the bar to find out what he does. He's in business of some kind, not appealing to me, but still, that means the world doesn't end (or begin) with the bar.

I feel stronger every day. It sounds strange, but I'm almost glad I didn't pass. Passing would have meant that the tsunami of my life would have continued without my even noticing if I like it. Now I have to (and get to) determine what I want. This is something I never really considered before.

20/20 Redux

My comments on tonight's 20/20:

Interview with Lance Bass: The interviewer asked him about Britney. He claims they were friends. The only information he could give was about her first, annulled, marriage. During this part of the chat, 20/20 is showing images from this year, with her shaved head. So, friends? Maybe, back in the day. But it's very misleading to talk about events from over a year ago and show images from a few months ago.

Global warming with John Stossel: He was interviewing scientists who are more reticent to claim that the current environment is caused by recent human behavior. My problem is that there was clearly a slice in the video to allow Stossel to ask a question. There was no need for that video split, because the speaker was already answering. This seems to me like Stossel felt he wasn't getting enough air time.

Regrouping

Well, it's 2 days later and I am both sober and not hung over. Man, I worked hard for that hangover. Wouldn't wish that one on anyone, except a choice few.

Now to decide the next life plans. There's a few questions I have, such as:

1. Do I even want to practice law? It's not a huge calling for me, but since I'm knocking on 200K in debt, it seems my career choices are limited. Sometimes I want to be a lawyer, but the hoops are really high.

2. If I do want to retake the bar, where? Initially I wanted to go home. But I checked Alabama's website, and I've missed the deadline to sign up for the February bar. So I'm screwed on that idea, unless I can find someone to hire me as a clerk for pretty much a full year. So that leaves Virginia. I can retake the beast here.

3. Why are so few people passing the bar? I'd love to know the stats from my law school. I want to know by state, GPA, class ranking, the whole shebang about how my class fared. Hell, I don't have a job, give me the raw data and I'll run the numbers myself!

Done for now. There's TiVo a-waitin', and come Monday I'll be the queen of resumes. At least there's an SVU marathon tomorrow.

Bar Results

I failed. I am one of the 28% of Virginia Bar takers in July 2007 who did not pass the bar.

I am going to get very, very drunk now.

Bar Results

It's now mid-October, the time when the bar association said that our test results would be ready. Each morning I wake up with a pit of fear in my stomach, wondering if a) the results are up and b) I passed. Each day gets a little bit tougher. The swearing-in ceremony is October 29. The bar has to tell us before then, right? And hopefully not the day before, as I live 90 miles from the capital.

I just want this wait finished. I'm tired, scared, and broke. And I know I'm not the only one. I wonder how many other states haven't announced the results yet. I know that North Carolina, Indiana, and Utah have announced.

If you're in one of the states that hasn't released its results yet, you're not alone. That pit of fear just might be nation-wide and we each get a little piece.

My Old Job

Before I went to law school, I worked for a software engineering company. I did a lot of different jobs, usually under 1 job title, which rarely described my work. I would venture to say that most people's job descriptions barely touch what they actually do.

Anyway, I worked there for 5 years, and I still feel kinda like it's a part of me. For instance, every so often I check the company's website. I feel especially like the site is my baby because I was deeply involved in the redesign of the site a about 5 years ago now.

The company employs many people who are foreign nationals because the work done there is highly specialized and there just aren't that many people who do that kind of work. This creates a language barrier. The problem with that is that I am a grammar freak. I made it one of my missions when I worked there to ensure that as few grammatical errors left the building as possible.

The company has redesigned its site again. Visually, it is perfect. Unfortunately, the grammar is not. I wish I could go back there and fix it for the company!

But I can't. Still, I hope the company continues to do well.

Poor Britney

I feel really badly for Britney Spears. I do think it was wise of the judge to decide that her boys should stay with their dad now. I want her to get better. It makes me wonder about the power of the media. Yes, she carries some of the blame for inviting the media into her life. But still, something is clearly going on in her head.

I have no doubt that she loves her kids. The problem is, her entire career has been based on publicity. How is she supposed to do better? When I look at some of her photos, she looks so resigned and sad. It's almost as if when she messes up, why hide it? The media is going to get photos regardless, so why hide it?

I hope that she can go to a good rehab and develop herself again.

I wish we could just let her do that.

God speed, Britney.

Paranoid? Maybe

I'm pretty sure my father never wanted a family. I only have circumstantial proof of this:

1. Pennsylvania - we lived there during 3 Mile Island. Although we did not live near the area, I figure that was just an oversight or practice for my dad.

2. Kansas - we lived in Wichita when the BTK killer was doing his thing. I was raised Lutheran and so was BTK. With my luck, we all went to the same church.

3. Florida - we lived in Orlando when Adam Walsh was murdered. (John Walsh's of America's Most Wanted fame son.) Again, his murder happened in Hollywood, which is not near Orlando, but still, there's beginning to be a pattern here.

4. California - we lived in Orange County during the Night Stalker years. This time got close, the serial killer attacked a couple who lived near my church and also slept under a bridge near my junior high school. Also, a good friend was shot in a drive-by while he and I were walking to the store. Luckily the bullet was a paint ball, but it just as easily could not have been.

That's all the proof I have for now. If I find more, then the paranoia will continue.