Disclaimer: This may become the format for the next 5 weeks as I am not sure if and when I will get to post given that I will be "in trial." In the midwest, apparently lawyers say they are "on trial" - something I never understood, as it leads people to believe that it is in fact your life and freedom hanging in the balance or your money and reputation on the line. However, given the fact that I feel as though I am going off to war having said goodbye to my loved one's and bought myself a month's supply of new underwear, perhaps "on trial" is in fact more apropos.
Take this J.D.....: You know that it is time to find a new job when you start to envision getting hit by a car or taking a spill somewhere - anything that will cause you to have to be hospitalized but not cause lasting harm - as a legitimate means of avoiding work. Not good, not good at all...
And Shove it.: You really know you need to leave not only the job, but the entire profession, when you share the aforementioned thought with others that do your job, and every one of them admits to having had similar thoughts. On more than one occasion.
Words, Words, Words: My sister asked me today: "You told me 'randar' is a real word, right?"
Though I employ the term on a semi-regular basis, I recognize it isn't an O.E.D. sanctioned component of the English language or anything, so I respond: "Ummm, no. Never said any such thing."
She is unfazed: "Oh, well, I told some people it was a real word. So could you, umm, write me a definition of the word. Make it look legit, so I can tell them I got it from some official source."
Ah, okay.
I thought it was a word that was indigenous to having grown up in the NorCal region, so I did a quick survey of the NorCal babies I know: "If I say, 'That guy is a total randar' you know what I mean, right?"
Unanimous response: "No."
Well, then.
So it appears that the word is completely indigenous to me. And that I have now pawned it off on my unsuspecting sister as some legitimate part of the modern lexicon. So here I stand before you, a shameless word-forger. Interesting. Well, given that that is the case and that I am thoroughly unapologetic about the whole thing, I may as well try to provide her a faux-legitimate definition to go along with my misinformation, so here goes:
RANDAR (n.): 1. A person who, though invited (often merely as a courtesy), is an unexpected, unintegrated part of a group at an event. E.g. Everyone Jason invited to his party showed up, including friends, family, and a couple of randars. 2. An odd, unknown person. E.g. We were having a good time at the bar until a couple of randars came up and wouldn't leave us alone.
A Celebration of Non-Celebration: Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I was going to dedicate an entire painstakingly crafted entry to this tomorrow, but I have changed my mind.
The significance of this day for me this year is in its non-significance. Despite the fact that red hearts are floating around in every shop window and the iTunes has 2 iTunes Essentials Mixes for Valentine's Day (Valentine's Day for Lovers and Valentine's Day Alone - the contrast between the two perfectly exemplified by their opening songs: Berlin's "Take My Breath Away" versus Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know" - enough said), I have absolutely no urge to do any of the following:
(1) wear black in protest,
(2) lament that I have no date/have no boyfriend/have no husband/have no prospects/have no cats and/or shotgun,
(3) to perform my annual 8 minute and 42 second soliloquy about the conspiracy between Hallmark, Russell Stover and Victoria's Secret which begat this monstrous holiday (BTW, while I understand the lingerie and the cards expressing affection, I do not get the whole giving of chocolates thing. Chocolates as a generic gift at the holidays for the inevitable unexpected gift from randar person or far-away, rarely seen relatives, I totally get. But chocolates for someone, usually the woman, you are trying to declare your continued undying love and affection for? Not so much. If she is body conscious - as most women are - this is a set-back just wanting to happen. Insensitivity negative points for you. Or if she isn't body conscious, it still just comes off as a gift in which very, very, very little thought was invested. Once again, mass insensitivity negative points for you. So to review: Lingerie - good. Bling - good. Sappy card and/or poem written by you - Good. Chocolates - bad!),
(4) to put on a brave face of being Valentine-less to the betrothen around me, by squeaking, "Well, at least I am saving money. Besides, I wouldn't want someone to have to spend $200 on roses for me just because they buy them for a particular day" while my eyes brim up with tears,
(5) to put John Michael Montgomery's "I Love the Way You Love Me" on repeat (not much of a country fan, but you can't beat it for tug at the heartstrings/twangy pronouncements of love and/or heartbreak),
(6) alternatively, to put "I Will Survive" (Gloria Gaynor), the aforementioned "You Oughta Know" (A. Morissette) or "Liar" (Henry Rollins Band) on a continual rotation for 12 hours,
(7) to sigh uncontrollably all day long, in a shameless solicitation of attention and sympathy from anyone in a 3 mile radius,
(8) to alienate all of my married and coupled friends, who respond the aforementioned pleas for sympathy with kindness and affection, to which I whine, "But you just don't understand. You have someone who loves you. I am unloved. I will always be unloved. I am the antithesis of love. I am where love goes to die." (Drama queen much? Sad to say, not only have I actually given this "oh woe is me" speech, I have done so on a number of different occasions. Sometimes I try to change it up by throwing in a couple of mentions of love actually hating me, as somehow the anthropomorphization seems to add a little color to the whole rant), or
(9) refusing to use the very word, and betraying my bitterness by omission (and sad attempts to be snarky-clever): "Oh it's that day today. Yeah, I generally find that it to be rather tacky to acknowledge V.D. in public."
I am officially indifferent to Valentine's Day. Really feel like that is a personal victory.
Now if I can just get people to believe it.
The Semi-Well Illuminated Side: Because I feel that it is important in my quest to successfully make it through the next 5 weeks (Outwit, Outplay, Outlast), I am forcing myself to list several good things about the upcoming trial experience:
1. Billables requirement this year - taken care of. Which hopefully will translate into my student loans being taken care of in turn.
2. I will have no problem keeping my Lenten resolution to give up complaining about singleness. Cannot complain about not dating when you have no time to date.
3. I will be living in a 4 star hotel for over a month. How many people can say that? Other than rock stars and oil magnates. Oh, I am so uber-faux fabulous.
4. The company will be good. I get along with everyone I work with, more or less.
5. There must be more, I just can't think of it right now.
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