Gone Fishin'

There is a certain kind of summer associate project very popular with assigning partners. Partner can't think of any cases that stand for a given principle, but (s)he would really like there to be one. So (s)he sends you to look for it. It is of course, not there. Sometimes, if you are lucky, there are lots and lots of cases that say the exact opposite. But usually there's just nothing out there. You just keep searching, aimlessly, not knowing when to cut short your search, unproductive but scared that you're missing something crucial. This is the worst kind of assignment.

And then sometimes you find something. Sometimes you suddenly see that even though Partner's theory is completely crazy you know how to make it work. That is the best kind of assignment.

Already Falling Behind

I heard on the radio about an article in Time Magazine about The Sopranos State of North Korea and I thought to myself, "Hey, isn't that what Sheena's thesis was about?" Sheena is a friend who lived down the hall from me freshman year, and we all went to watch her presentation. So I roll on over to the website and sure enough, the venerable newsweekly has written a feature article about her work, listing her as "a researcher at Harvard University."

I spend the rest of the day feeling like I've been wasting my time at school.

The City Veins

I don't read Matt Yglesias's blog for music recommendations, but because I'm a Trainspotting-level political junkie. Still, the other day he linked to this indie band The City Veins, who were (and are!) giving away their debut CD for free. It's not at all what I'd usually listen to, but I've had it on the iPod at work and it's really grown on me. It kind of makes me want to steal Ken's computer and spend days staring plaintively into a rainy middle distance. This effect is troubling. Having hastily abandoned my SoCal roots, I'm increasingly alarmed that I've become locked in to some irreversible metro-hipster-yuppie metamorphosis. I fully expect to awake in the middle of the night encased in a gossamer cocoon of polyester while terrible enzynes melt my intestines and coat me in a chitinous shell of vinyl and hair product.

But the music is pretty good.

Relative Velocity

I'm picking Ken up from the airport. I just realized it may take me longer to drive there than it will take him to fly.

Double Take

A co-worker asks if anyone has ever told me I look like Roger Federer. They haven't, and I didn't even know what he looks like. But I did a Google Image search and it' actually kind of close:

Pop!

The latest law school term bill arried by e-mail. Some day, I will get used to the idea hitting a few buttons and sending ten thousand dollars off into the ether.

But today is not that day.

Pop!

The Denmark Model

Yes Virginia, national health care would greatly increase labor mobility. This is an issue that plays into pretty much all of my ideological biases, but damn if I didn't wish we heard this case more often.

Keep Calm and Carry On

Apparently, the Walgreens a few blocks up was destroyed by arson. I say apparently because I wasn't here to see any flames, let alone any saboteurs setting them. I only saw the burned-out hulk of a rooftop air conditioner in the middle of the intersection, surrounded by police barricades. The locals told me it was arson. No word on whether the air conditioner was dragged there after or, as I prefer to imagine it, popped off the roof like a champagne cork and came crashing down in a cloud of fire.

Noah's Bagels across the street boarded up its windows, but its owners have spray painted the plywood with encouraging pleas for normalcy. "I ASSURE YOU," reads my favorite, "WE ARE OPEN."

Exodus

No updates for a while, must mean I've been busy. And I have. Most drastically, Summer employer agreed to send me on a three-week impromptu split at the Redwood City office. I had been composing to myself a long and reflective post about my ambivalent feelings about San Diego and what that send about me and law school and how I've changed over the years, and I voiced some of those thoughts at my mid-summer review. Then - BAM! - faster than a speeding blogger I got a call asking if I could start in Silicon Valley on Monday. I drove up all day yesterday and had my first day at work today back in the Bay Area.

Free advice: if you're planning a day-long road trip, do not nap on the beach the morning before you leave. A sunburned back is very uncomfortable during an eight-hour drive.

I didn't leave San Diego until 4:30 because Mike the Once and Future Management Consultant was in town for the Fourth and I had to take him down to the airport. I finally got in to Palo Alto at 12:40.

More free advice: after a long holiday weekend, get some freaking sleep before starting your new job. Man cannot live on caffeine alone.

Also, Live Free or Die Hard is better than Transformers. Transformers does have giant robots fighting, which is awesome. But it sometimes has robots talking, which is a bit less awesome. Die Hard has Bruce Willis fighting, which is awesome. But then it has Bruce Willis talking which is also awesome.

I think I could write a lot about both of those movies, but for now let me just point out one thing. You know how at the end of Transformers when Protagonist and Hot Girl are making out on the hood of his car? That car is a robot and his friend. He's hooking up on top of his friend. And then while they've having some kinky cyborg threesome, the camera pans back and you see all the other robot cars watching them, headlights shining? That's some freaky shit.