<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485</id><updated>2012-04-15T20:07:28.307-07:00</updated><category term='\'/><title type='text'>Now - Just Beyond Law School</title><subtitle type='html'>I was once a first year law student, hoping to get through. I didn't, I hated my law school, I wasn't enjoying ANYTHING about the experience and finally decided to stop throwing good money after bad.

So, now I am just a regular working girl in the DC metro area.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>162</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7442587187325174851</id><published>2008-04-08T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T07:29:34.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Work Tip: Volume 1 Scheduling Meetings</title><content type='html'>If you send around a meeting appointment that you say is urgent and we all say yes and then actually show up....don't blame us for getting pissed when you forget about it and don't show up.....especially not get angry when we wait 10 minutes and then get back to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU wanted the meeting, YOU know what is to be discussed and none of the rest of us care frankly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when you sent around a 2nd meeting notice for later that afternoon despite the busy blocks on people's schedules and then proceeded to leave work 30 minutes before your 2nd meeting started....yea we were not impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So heres a tip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When you schedule a meeting show up.&lt;br /&gt;- If you schedule a meeting, and don't show up....apoligize.&lt;br /&gt;- If you schedule a meeting, you don't show up, and you don't apoligize do not then get angry when people give up and move on to something else instead of waiting for you to waltz in.&lt;br /&gt;-If you do all of the above anyhow (despite the warnings) do not schedule a 2nd meeting at another time when you wont be showing up.&lt;br /&gt;- If you do schedule such a 2nd meeting, and don't show up, and also don't apoligize do not be surprised when future meeting requests come back checked with a "no".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...simply...show up to meetings you schedule, don't schedule meetings when you wont be there, and apoligize if you find yourself acting like a douche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7442587187325174851?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7442587187325174851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7442587187325174851&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7442587187325174851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7442587187325174851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/04/at-work-tip-volume-1-scheduling.html' title='At Work Tip: Volume 1 Scheduling Meetings'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3875755023075574107</id><published>2008-04-03T12:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T12:14:56.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Grace</title><content type='html'>I got a comment on my blog today that just made me laugh out loud. Grace writes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Grace said...&lt;br /&gt;You're an arrogant, rude little girl.No wonder you couldn't get through law school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace, I must know....what so infuriated you over my post? Was is that I don't enjoy arriving at work covered in the beverage I meant to drink on the way to work thus insulting people who enjoy looking they don't know how to drink from a cup properly? Was this the arrogant part? Well, I guess it is a little high and mighty of me to think that I should be given my beverage in a condition that I can actually drink, how DARE I??? No really, how fucking dare I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And which part of it was rude? Asking the woman nicely that she clean the cup and place a new lid on it? How on earth is that rude? Is it rude to make any request at all of the people at McD's? Should people stop asking for extra napkins, sauce containers and for replacement food if they were given the wrong thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am really giggle over the last part of this......now THIS incident is the reason I could not finish law school? It couldn't have been that law school was literally sucking the will to live out of me, killing my spirit, and did not interest me in the way that accounting and HR do......but it was because I'd like my beverage served to be in a cup without a hole in it, with a lid on it securely, and without liquid gushing out of the top/sides of it? REALLY???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Grace come back and explain, I must know more. Perhaps you hold the key to my success in life. Coach me oh wise one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3875755023075574107?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3875755023075574107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3875755023075574107&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3875755023075574107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3875755023075574107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/04/poor-grace.html' title='Poor Grace'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3779029089750457588</id><published>2008-03-27T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T13:06:55.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Work Work Blah Blah Blah</title><content type='html'>The lack of posts can be mainly blamed on an overload of work. Wouldn't you know it, but just as I am catching up the end of the 1st quarter rolls around and a whole mess load of closing out this, and reporting that must happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets take some time to reflect on the first quarter....how was everyone's January to March?  Did you do anything exciting? Did you do anything new? Did you accomplish anythig?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exciting....  I had the very best meal of my life at MiniBar, a teeny tiny 6 seat restuarant in a restuarant inside of Cafe Atlantica. It was absolutely delicous, and if I were I food reviewer I would rave and rave. It was so much fun, basically you get 30 courses of mini foods, all sorts of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New..... Yea I did do something new....all season long I had been really enjoying the Patriots tremendous winning streak.....which was shattered, resulting in much saddness for all. It totally sucked, but hey it was definitely "NEW" since they decided they'd like to try out loosing at the Super Bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplish..... I cant say a new job because I got this one during the 4th quarter of 2007. But I have managed not to get fired, not to mess up any huge projects, and the such. I've also accomplished much drinking.....does that actually count as an accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....3 people still reading along...whats up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3779029089750457588?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3779029089750457588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3779029089750457588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3779029089750457588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3779029089750457588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/work-work-work-blah-blah-blah.html' title='Work Work Work Blah Blah Blah'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2179907150952819831</id><published>2008-03-14T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T09:08:56.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Hate Salespeople</title><content type='html'>I know that sales is a job just like any other, and we actually NEED them here to sell our product, do demos, negotiate contracts and the such. But really do these folks have to be such total douche bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to be a good employee I always answer their emails, give them the info that they ask for (even if they could easily get it themselves), and so on. But at this point, it really takes up a lot of my time, time that should be spend actually doing the work I was hired for. On top of that, I begin to get a little more and more bitter at all of the perks they recieve, while seemingly doing so much less work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started when they had their annual sales conference in a location on a the beach, where they and their spouses recieved airfare, hotel, food, activities, golf, and so on for a week to attend this meeting. The rest of us got to be back here, in frigid ass semi-frozen tundra that was the DC metro area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next they were given a cruise for free, also with flights, food, transfers, activities included, also with their mates attending. This was not a meeting, so they could not even play it like they were working. The bitterness definitely grew, this was after they;d only been back in the office a week. I haven't had a vacation in I dont even know how long, but here they get 2 free on the company while we don't so much as get the day before Christmas off. Real nice, a great way to build team spirit. And yes I know I am being childish and petty, if I were a saleperson I would get it too, but I am not so I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in view all of these perks they get over me I really start to find myself feeling less and less chartible towards them and my will to want to help them when I don't technically have to and they could do it themselves really has faded to basically nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 2 here that I actually like as human beings, and they never ask me for anything if they can do it themselves, they do their own work because in the end I wont be getting a penny of their commision, or a flight to Florida for anything I do. I'll just get my paycheck (which really is good enough for me, I just dont need these other perks flaunted in my face thank you very much). The others, I wouldn't care if they left yesterday. Here is a brief list of why I hate our salespeople.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. They did not take to heart that saying that "A lack of planning on your part does not equal an emergency on my part". So, a few weeks back when a salesman ran up to me 5 minutes before quitting time demanding I pull all sorts of information for him because he had a dinner meeting and needed it to give to the client, I was none to sympathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How long ago did you plan this meeting?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"About a week back" says the out of breath salesman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well you should have put your request in them, I am going home at its xx:xx o'clock, so I wont be able to help you until tomorrow, You can get x info and x info by yourself, the rest your regional manager can pull for you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But....I can't ask him, its too close to the meeting, can't you just do this for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry I've got plans, I am out for the day, I'll see you tomorrow" as I put my coat on, turn off my computer and gather my belongings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't actually have plans, I am just a bitch. I wont be staying an hour late because this asshole didn't ask me for something in time and now doesn't want to ask his manager because he'll get in trouble. Seriously, you want to make an upsell YOU work for it, I dont get a penny extra for going out of my way to help you out. So now, I sure did enjoy sitting on the couch watching TMZ while you must have been getting reamed out for waiting until the last minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Blatant rudeness. Now, these folks have to be people people because they manage to sell stuff to other people right? Why then is it that they cannot say a simple Please and a Thank You? When you do something for them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It drives me up a wall.....you people are not my supervisors or bosses in anyway so would it kill you to change, "Get me this now!!!!" and than snatching it from me and walking off with a grunt to "I am in a tight spot, could you please pull this for me?.... Oh thank you so much!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My working theory is that these guys are total douche bags and they spend so much time surpressing their horrible personalities to make nice nice with the clients that they simply cannot restrain their natural asshole any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. FUCKING RESPOND TO EMAIL....thats right email. When I send you an email asking for a client contact or something only you would know, actually answer me back. You'd have a total heart attack if I didn't answer you back in 30 minutes, so why is it that I have to send you reminder after reminder to get you to give me one phone number or email address. Are you that busy and important? I really don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh this makes me appreciate the 2 good ones so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Love-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2179907150952819831?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2179907150952819831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2179907150952819831&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2179907150952819831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2179907150952819831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-i-hate-salespeople.html' title='Why I Hate Salespeople'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5351682224971662269</id><published>2008-03-03T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T07:24:32.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Your Filthy Cup To Yourself!</title><content type='html'>I managed to insult a McDonald's employee this morning, and while I can sympathize with their position, I am afraid I still don't feel as if I was "in the wrong".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background: I drive to work in Tysons, there is a McD's between my home and the highway (the point of no return and no exit). sometimes I stop there before work for an ice coffee or a sweet tea. During the past I have been handing dripping cups, cups with the lids off, and so on. The final straw of course was the time I was given a cup, with an actually HOLE in it. I thought the thing was just dripping, but no.....after getting halfway to work it was clear all the liquid the cup once had was spilled all over my car and cupholder and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have taken to inspecting the cups I get from there before taking them into my car. Not a long drawn out 55 point inspection, but just a glance to make sure there isn't a hole and the lid is on, is not broken, and that it is not overflowing all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning, I ordered my sweet tea, I drove around and was handed a cut that was activitly dripping, from the top, where it was pretty managled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Drive Tru Lady....can you LOOK at what you're handing me please? Would anyone want a dripping, sticky, dark colored beverage leaking from a cup on the way to work? No, no one would like that....so if you see it (and you must because you're holding it out to me) why not just fix it instead of hoping I will take it anyway and not bother wit arguing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't just take it, I looked at it, looked at my nice clean light colored pants, and asks for it to be cleaned and a new cover placed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sighing, dumping it in the garabage and starting over did not really impress me. I am not the pain here, if you'd not make a huge mess of the cup, I'd take it. I get a little drip or two....but there should not be so much beverage it leaks out of the poorly put on and partially damaged lid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you for making me a new one, and handing me a clean cup....but no thank you for snorting at me and rolling your eyes. You were actually the employee that handing me a cup with a HOLE in it, using a napkin to cover the hole, so I could not see it until it was waaaay too late. So excuse me if I don't exactly trust your beverage containment skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5351682224971662269?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5351682224971662269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5351682224971662269&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5351682224971662269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5351682224971662269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/keep-your-filthy-cup-to-yourself.html' title='Keep Your Filthy Cup To Yourself!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2634286058975529102</id><published>2008-03-01T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T06:32:24.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Are a Grown Ass Adult!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think that some people need to be reminded that they are in fact grown, and need to begin acting that way at some time. Perhaps the problem is that these people feel that they are entitled to be coddled until they die, or maybe they don't even realize that they are acting out because their behavior seem normal to them. So, I figured I would put together a small handy guide to figure out whether you are acting like a petulant child, or actually living life as intended, as a functioning member of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you have one or more children and you do not know who his/her/their father is.....something has gone awry in your life. No I am not calling your offspring bastard children, and yes I know you love them and are so happy they are here. What I am saying is having a baby and not knowing who the father is, well thats not GOOD....actually its BAD, thats the wrong thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you react to this happening in your life by examining your behavior, slapping on a condom or popping a pill, and working to improve your situation....you are acting like an adult...go you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you react to this by having more children with different men, perhaps several....you need to grow the fuck up, seriously. Get your act together, take a break from the casual sex, and just take care of you responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you are 30 years old, you have a college degree, and your parents financially support you.....thats not good. You have all the tools to be a fully functioning adult....please do so. This is made even more pathetic if you're married, and especially if you have children of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're 30 and you have a good education, you are not underprivileged with no skills....why don't you go get a job, live somewhere you can afford and budget carefully to meet all your own financial obligations? Its really not that tough, you should have been practicing for years, but you can start now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living with your family (you know the one you started because thats what adults sometimes do?) in your parents home because you "can't afford" your own is BAD, it is not the norm, and it shows a significant failure in some way of being a functioning member of society. Your parents already raised their children, why don't you go do the same? Please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. This goes along with the previous bullet, if you think  that you are poor because you can't make your rent payment but you have a new car, all the video game system, new mp3 players, and so on....you are retarded. Stop buying junk and paying your bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an adult you make money, and then you chose how to spend it. Grown ass adults pay their important bills FIRST (aka rent, insurance, car payment, food, and so on) and then if there is money left over save some and spend some on non-essential fun things. People who should technically be adults according to age but who don't act that way, spend it on crap they don't need first and then cry poor and are mystified that they don't have enough money left over for a place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen....don't be fucking stupid. You NEED a place to live....pay for that first you moron, that way you can house all your expensive junk. Also, if 50% of your income goes to your car payment, thats BAD.....you should not have bought that car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this has been helpful, but I know the idiots I have described wont see themselves in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year - (who has heard one too many sob stories where the "victim" was really an active participant in making their own woe)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2634286058975529102?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2634286058975529102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2634286058975529102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2634286058975529102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2634286058975529102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-are-grown-ass-adult.html' title='You Are a Grown Ass Adult!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2027415423859720981</id><published>2008-02-29T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T09:28:02.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes - It IS Your birthday!!!</title><content type='html'>Some people might disagree....but I think by the time you're out in the working world, and you're say 24, your birthday sort of ceases to be a big deal. Sure I like to go out and celebrate, maybe invite some friends to dinner or a bar, maybe get some presents and the usual $100 check from my parents, you know commiserate on being a year older and closer to renting a car with no extra under 25 fee (only 6 more months until I'm 25, where if I were a car I'd qualify for antique tags).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not this chick at work though. No....her birthday is a HUGE DEAL. I don't even know when most of my coworker's birthdays are, and I don't care (well, unless we get cake or something, then I do care). She began talking about her birthday to anyone who would listen last week (her birthday was yesterday), she took the day of her birthday off (hey, fair enough), she threw *herself* a huge party and invited everyone and badgered them endlessly to come because its MY BIRTHDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literally every other work out of her month was birthday, birthday birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today she comes in the day after, and she's officially 24.....wooohooooo. Now please shut the fuck up, seriously please just stop, right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it make me a bad person that I think this person is going to be taught a lesson (in how to not be a completely obnoxious bitch)....because when she left for lunch about 15 minutes ago the poor girl who sits next to her took a poll to see who was going to her party tonight, and can't find one single person who is.  I would go....but I sort of hate her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson here folks: No one but you and maybe your family and a best friend or two care one little teeny bit about your getting older. In fact, its stupid that you're so excited about it. Also, generally talking about the same subject over and over and over again with no break, especially when no one but you cares will not win you any friends. And then no one will even pretend to care enough to go out and go to your party to commemorate the day of your birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2027415423859720981?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2027415423859720981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2027415423859720981&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2027415423859720981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2027415423859720981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/02/yes-it-is-your-birthday.html' title='Yes - It IS Your birthday!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3007912300889226990</id><published>2008-02-25T09:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T09:37:09.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uninspired....</title><content type='html'>I have things I'd like to write about, but it seems weird in my own old school blog, I've thought of starting a new one more about work and life in the DC metro area :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much has been happening lately, Work is going and busy, there is the usual torrent of incompetant coworkers, entitled customers, and crazy higher ups that there always seems to be no matter the company or the position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Married life is going again, we haven't filed for divorce, so consider that one a success :) We seem to be getting along well and all that good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I am basically just sitting around at home doing old lady style activities (knitting, watching TV, reading, and so on).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just somehow uninspired to rant about the bitchy girls who sit near me, or the crazy VP, or the accidently porn.....sigh. I really did used to enjoy the online blogger community, I just feel after leaving law school I don't really belong anymore :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3007912300889226990?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3007912300889226990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3007912300889226990&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3007912300889226990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3007912300889226990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/02/uninspired.html' title='Uninspired....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2598346811413759845</id><published>2008-01-02T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T08:33:28.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohh....I Have a Blog.....Weird</title><content type='html'>So...I am a major slacker, I guess my interest in blogging comes and goes. But with the New Year comes renewed motivation to write and share my vents....mainly so my head wont blow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all had a great Holiday season. Coming up this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Why you don't want to piss your accountant off&lt;br /&gt;2. How being an idiot means you pay double&lt;br /&gt;3. Why I hate my law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Bitter Jappy girls who want to get married but can't because no one will ever love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to write soon. But you all know what a blog promise is worth. Basically nothing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2598346811413759845?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2598346811413759845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2598346811413759845&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2598346811413759845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2598346811413759845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/01/ohhi-have-blogweird.html' title='Ohh....I Have a Blog.....Weird'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-1328112299713343715</id><published>2007-11-06T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T10:44:04.772-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='\'/><title type='text'>Do Not Block The Fucking Box...Idiot</title><content type='html'>People.....this isn't fucking hard to understand, but I suppose the terms used might confuse you. You know when you drive through an intersection in a busy area and there is a sign that says, "Don't Block the Box"......that isn't just a crazy random sign, it means something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I'm from we don't call it "the box" we refer to it as the intersection...however, it doesn't take one (well one with a reasonable amount of brain cells left) long to realize that the "the box" refers to the intersection and that is what the sign is asking you not to block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that we have established that box=intersection (look at the lines on the 4 way intersection, it looks like a box.....or at least thats where I think that term came from...)..... lets move on to the "do not block part".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically.....if there is not room for your car to roll completely *through* the intersection, you should not proceed through the light until there is room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this might mean sitting at a green light, and yes idiots will honk, but if you do decide to go, you'll simply prevent the people on the intersecting road from passing by you and increase the chance that you will be mowed down by a crazy metro bus driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....don't get into the intersection if you cannot make it all the way across and fit behind the car you're following.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-1328112299713343715?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/1328112299713343715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=1328112299713343715&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/1328112299713343715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/1328112299713343715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/11/do-not-block-fucking-boxidiot.html' title='Do Not Block The Fucking Box...Idiot'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7559081132193482882</id><published>2007-10-23T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T08:35:41.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clients Are Idiots</title><content type='html'>Dear Clients,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that you have a lot going on, what with running that business of yours. I get that, I really do....we're busy here as well. However, why oh why is it that today, over a month past the deadline for the very last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;extension&lt;/span&gt; you were able to get for your 2006 income taxes (yes, 2006), do I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a telephone call from you and have the following exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless Client: Hey First Year, I finally decided to remove my head from my ass and try to find the information you need to do our 2006 taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, that is great...I do hope you are aware that at this point they are past due and will incur a penalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: That is outrageous! That is why I pay people to do my taxes for me! Why don't I just do them myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You can do them yourself if you'd like, but you'll still have to pay the penalty. Simply hiring someone to do your taxes, and then not allowing them to actually do your taxes along with cancelling every meeting we're made to go over them does not count in the eyes of the IRS. Is there anything else I can help you with since you'd rather file your return yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: Well, aren't you going to help me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I would be happy to help you please send over x, y and z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: Oh....none of the years sales/expenses/data/anything is in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Quick Books&lt;/span&gt; file yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, we can do that, but it will take about a week for your return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: But they are do NOW.....you need to do this today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, they were due on April 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and then again on September 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, now they are past due and will be past due next week as well. It is 4pm and I am afraid I cannot drop work for other clients to do your data entry. If you would send the files over we would be happy to help you out and generate your returns early next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: :::::mutters about how lazy I am and why does he pay anyone to do something he could do himself:::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: As I said, please feel free to do the data entry yourself this afternoon and then send over x, y and z and we can generate the returns later on this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: But I don't have time for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Exactly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Argh&lt;/span&gt;, what is that inane saying.... "Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dear client, while I prefer to while all my returns on time, apparently you are too lazy/stupid/disorganized/whatever to do so. That doesn't mean I am going to drop whatever it was I was doing in order to help you. Turn around for a corporate return could be very quick, especially if you don't act like a jerk to the person who you want to help you, however this assumes you have actually been entering all your payments and incoming money for the year....you know like most business do, but if you haven't and expect to dump a pile of invoices, bank statements, deposit slips, invoices and whatever else on my desk 1.5 hours before closing time, do not even expect me to look at it until I do all the things I prefer to do (as in not data entry) first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when you say you could just do it yourself....this isn't a threat to me. I don't get extra money for dealing with you or for preparing your returns. You were acting like an asshole on the phone, did you think I would be groveling for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; of preparing your returns and organizing your mess and dealing with your screaming self on the phone for a week. No....I don't care if you go elsewhere. You are a shitty client.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7559081132193482882?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7559081132193482882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7559081132193482882&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7559081132193482882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7559081132193482882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/clients-are-idiots.html' title='Clients Are Idiots'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5220874858631132791</id><published>2007-10-15T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T05:55:27.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing An Essential Piece of Information</title><content type='html'>Dear City of Alexandria,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that once and awhile you need to repave and repair your streets. Thats great, we all like a nice smooth pothole free street to drive down, well unlike you do a shitty job. However, when you close down a large stretch of a major connecting street and you put those nice little helpful detour signs up, you really ought to have an actual detour route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive up Closed Street to get to work as usual and see that with no warning (so I cannot turn down one of the other connecting streets) that the road is closed, I can continue no longer. But alas, I think its OK....here is a detour sign pointing left, the only way we can turn with all the great one ways in this area. So I turn left and look for another sign pointing me to the detour. There is no sign. Instead I am now driving around a residential neighborhood with a line of other commuters filled with one way streets and seemingly no way to get back unto a connector street that does not invole the closed street. We cannot get back out unto the main road because the one ways make it impossible, We cannot get to a connector street because the residential streets are all dead ends or circles of some sort. So we all drive around in a comical circle until the first person in line decides to just cut through a large day care (yes, very safe for all those little kids being dropped off) center's grounds, drive over the grass, over a curb, and about 10 feet down a one way to finally get to freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I of course followed him.....but really what else what I going to do? Continue to circle the neighborhood? Park my car where I am not allowed to and walk the 1.5 miles to work? Give up, park the car, roll over and die? No really....I am curious because you really could not have planned that worse if you had tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5220874858631132791?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5220874858631132791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5220874858631132791&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5220874858631132791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5220874858631132791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/missing-essential-piece-of-information.html' title='Missing An Essential Piece of Information'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8081261428934555504</id><published>2007-10-12T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T14:32:38.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Alive</title><content type='html'>Well....I suck at keeping up with my blog. But the thing is I feel like sort of a fraud posting here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I will be taking a nice long break from law school. I HATED my law school....I hated their freaking humanitarian efforts and obsessions with the repressed of the world (nothing against the repressed of course). So I have been trying to decide whether I should keep posting in this blog or simply start a new one, leave this one up for prosterity and have a link.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone is still reading and has an opinion just give me a holler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, the wedding was awesome :) I'll post some pictures (well without faces of course, it will be the great headless wedding, maybe a bit too creepy......) when I finally get the CD in from our photographer. But we have a shit load of fun, the food was great, there were plenty of booze and we danced all night. All of the people I hoped would be there were there (well almost.....but distance is hard sometimes) and hopefully they all had fun :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year- or rather.... No Year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should call this blog, "now what?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8081261428934555504?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8081261428934555504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8081261428934555504&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8081261428934555504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8081261428934555504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-alive.html' title='I am Alive'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-413824054690605001</id><published>2007-08-22T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T10:34:09.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Part of "I Don't Care" Don't You Understand?</title><content type='html'>I am planning my wedding from many states away. I don't care about the details...in the end me and Mr. First Year will end up married, I have a busy job and a busy life and I simply do not have time to micro-manage things to the levels that many Brides seem to feel is necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when my florist called me today to ask me some inane question about some stupid flower that I could care less about on my centerpieces, because he had woken up in the middle of the night thinking about I couldn't help but laugh. Listen...you are the professional, I told you what I wanted and liked....just do it. Don't ask me, just do. Please....Pretty please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise with the caterer who called me today all in a tizzy because the silver she was planning on using wasn't the exact stupid pattern I picked out however long ago. My questions... "I picked out silverware? Will there still be forks and knives to eat with" "yes? Well then I don't care". "Oh....it will have 3 'V's instead of one.....the horrors!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly people...the wedding is in 9 days, literally.....leave me alone. Ask my mom, she cares so much more then I do. Or better yet, just don't tell me. I guarantee you that on the day I marry my sweetie the last thing I am going to be noticing is the exact type of flowers in my centerpieces, or the lines on the silverware you will be using. And really....I am sort of scared of the type of people who do care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just keep repeating to myself that it is almost over, its almost over, its almost over.       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On some fun news....my work email was changed to reflect my new last name....how fun :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-413824054690605001?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/413824054690605001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=413824054690605001&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/413824054690605001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/413824054690605001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-part-of-i-dont-care-dont-you.html' title='What Part of &quot;I Don&apos;t Care&quot; Don&apos;t You Understand?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8075585577328766999</id><published>2007-08-19T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T09:25:58.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stressed the Fuck Out</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of posts everyone.....my wedding is in less then 2 weeks and I have been a stress case. My caterer decided to cancel 4 weeks before the wedding, we are dealing with Mr. First Year's family drama,  and trying to plan everything from out of town seems to be a lot harder then I had thought. I really just can't wait for this whole thing to be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. First Year is cool as a cucumber of course because he has done nothing.....arrrrghhhhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8075585577328766999?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8075585577328766999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8075585577328766999&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8075585577328766999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8075585577328766999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/stressed-fuck-out.html' title='Stressed the Fuck Out'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-716865867868060885</id><published>2007-08-08T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T06:26:36.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>George Bush: Masturbation Crusader</title><content type='html'>We all know right wing Christian nutbags hate the idea of people masturbating...but did you know how passionately George Bush hates that people pleasure themselves? In fact, he feels it unamerican!!!! If you masturbate you let the terrorists win. Apparently, Democrats MAKE people masturbate....oh dear god!!! Stop defiling your bodies. In that light, I simply must share this link with you.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.whitehouse.org/initiatives/purity/index.asp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="regular"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and yes I know this is a joke site....but I still fucking love it. I can see this coming out of the "Decider's Mouth"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-716865867868060885?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/716865867868060885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=716865867868060885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/716865867868060885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/716865867868060885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/george-bush-masturbation-crusader.html' title='George Bush: Masturbation Crusader'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-4251857524822336264</id><published>2007-07-25T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T12:42:47.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Frustrate Me! (Grocery Store Addition)</title><content type='html'>What the hell is wrong with people lately? There seems to be a spree of raging assholism going around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, I was at the grocery store (usually not the best place to find examples of people actually behaving themselves and people were just on a roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I get out of my car to go into the store. I am walking up the aisle when a woman who just finished loading her car and placed her cart directly behind the vehicle 2 down from hers. To make this act of utterly laziness and ass-y-ness even better.....the car behind which she placed her cart had it's reverse lights on! He was about to back off and this fucking bitch plops her cart right next to him???? If the man hadn't immediately jumped out of his car to move the cart to the corral a mere 15 feet away I would have just taken it for shopping.....but really. WTF??? I do have to say that the man showed restraint. I would have probably placed the cart back behind her cart and proceeded out of the lot. Maybe while saying, "Oh, I am afraid you mistook the back of my car for a cart corral....its right over there. Here you go".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.     Safely inside the store and away from the cart-crazies I go to the produce section. As I am selecting corn (and I admit, I peek under the silk a little to made sure theres nothing wrong with it) a lady walks up, begins ripping off large sections of husk, and then throwing the corn back onto the display. There was nothing wrong with the corn, except now no one else will want to buy it, it will dry out, and the store will need to throw it away. Oh....and throwing the husk trash into the trash can directly next to the display for just such a purpose was too hard for her. She just threw the husks back unto the display too. Reaaaaal nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  This wasn't a specific incident, I have seen it before and I have seen evidence of it multiple times. But....people don't eat food from the grocery store IN the grocery store. It's not a buffet. I can understand grabbing a bottle of water or soda if you're thirsty, drinking it while you're shopping, and then pay for it when you check out. But things like bananas handfuls of grapes, packaged snack goods all need to be paid for. Don't just take the wrapper/bag/peel and throw in somewhere in the store, thus effectively stealing. And to the people who let their kids steal a snack from the grocery store----real nice lesson you're teaching them. Good job, you're right in the running for parent of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. How about people who don't understand that while you are checking out it is actually *your turn* and they should wait in line to conduct their businesses? I ran into one of these on Friday. I was getting my items rungs up and an elderly couple approaches the register behind me (There was no line). Instead of waiting patiently for my transaction to be complete they started talking to the cashier and asking her questions. She tried to put them off, but they just became more irritated. I threw a few glares in their direction as they were standing too close to me and where trying to basically shove me out of the area you stand in to pay.  Finally the gentleman waves some product and loudly asks, "Price Check This!!!!!!!" The cashier explained she couldn't price check until my transaction was done.......the couple snorts, rolls their eyes and continues to try to infringe on my personal space. You people suck....wait your turn.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have any fun grocery store stories?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year- :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-4251857524822336264?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/4251857524822336264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=4251857524822336264&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4251857524822336264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4251857524822336264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/people-you-frustrate-me-grocery-store.html' title='People You Frustrate Me! (Grocery Store Addition)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8450777783936226108</id><published>2007-07-20T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T19:06:49.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Had to Share- Pictures a bit graphic...</title><content type='html'>OK....I have never been a fan of Walmart....in fact I don't shop there and haven't for years. Their stores are horrid, their products are crap, the other customers are filthy trash that refuses to reign in their children/various people on electric scooters and so on. But really....you should be able to go buy a cheapo pair of flip flops to wear once or twice on vacation to throw away after without them burning and permanently scaring your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.lamanaphotography.com/walmart.htm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8450777783936226108?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8450777783936226108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8450777783936226108&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8450777783936226108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8450777783936226108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/had-to-share-pictures-bit-graphic.html' title='Had to Share- Pictures a bit graphic...'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6794365124969034965</id><published>2007-07-17T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T08:34:35.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Employment in the First Year?</title><content type='html'>Hi helpful folks..... in a recent comment someone asked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"perhaps you have already encountered a dilemma I have. I know that 1L's are prohibited from discussing employment until after Dec. 1st, but my current boss wants to introduce me to some attornies in our field. Can I talk to them to network without providing a resume or discussing possible summer employment (which, ostensibly, is why I AM actually talking with them)?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered if anyone else had an answer for her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My understanding was that first year law students (other then part timers, who are allowed to work and usually do) were not allowed to work, but I am not aware of any rules regarding simply networking with people you already know. I mean if your boss wants to introduce you to some contacts for possible hire the summer after the first year, that isn't exactly like making an employment decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the rule against discussing employment only to prevent the career center from sending first year students on interviews and the such?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weigh in if you know more then me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6794365124969034965?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6794365124969034965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6794365124969034965&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6794365124969034965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6794365124969034965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/employment-in-first-year.html' title='Employment in the First Year?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8625744934707197932</id><published>2007-07-02T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T06:41:52.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learn To Merge!</title><content type='html'>Fellow DC area drivers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed that we seem to be having some type of problem, relating to "merging" unto highways. What happens is this....some cars are already driving *on* the highway, they are travelling at a high speed, usually 60-80 mph and there are other cars who are driving on an "entrance ramp" and attempting to get *unto* the highway. The right thing to do would be for the people on the entrance ramp is to attempt to get themselves up to highway speeds, find an opening in traffic and get unto the highway without forcing others to slam their breaks. The drivers *on* the highway and in the lane to be merged have been warned about the merge via signage, and they should try to space themselves in such a way that other cars are able to join the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, that is not what is happening a lot of the time. So for you, "challenged" drivers I offer the following advice of what NOT to do....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When entering the highway do not refuse to go over 20 mph. That is a dangerously slow speed of travel when entering the highway, the other cars are going 60 mph (at least) and by entering the highway at 20 you may cause an acident, not only for you but for all the people trapped behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you're driving on the highway and you don't want someone to merge in front of you, might I suggest getting into a different lane? Because those cars on the entrance ramp ARE going to be merging on the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you have relegated yourself to the lane that will be merged with, please refrain from driving directly next to cars from the entrance ramp...you know the game where you slow down when they slow down and speed up when they speed up, in what seems to be some type of passive aggressive show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on guys, I believe in you, you can do this.... to review: Speed up when entering the highway, space yourselves for a smooth merge, if you don't want to let cars in please move to another lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.....Jenny.... I had no idea I was quoted in the Washington Post....care to pass the info on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8625744934707197932?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8625744934707197932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8625744934707197932&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8625744934707197932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8625744934707197932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/learn-to-merge.html' title='Learn To Merge!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6967789404418779582</id><published>2007-06-21T11:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T11:37:57.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hater</title><content type='html'>Is it possible to actually hate an event? I mean, I know you can hate a person, hate an object, hate an activity, but an event? Your own event?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I currently hate my wedding. No, I don't hate anything specific, I like my venue, cake, flowers, catering, and so on. But I am hating all these little stupid things to think about and answer and decide and book and buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhh that felt good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6967789404418779582?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6967789404418779582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6967789404418779582&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6967789404418779582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6967789404418779582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/hater.html' title='Hater'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6515058285096714540</id><published>2007-06-07T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T15:26:24.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Wedding Marathon</title><content type='html'>Since my wedding is less then 3 months away, I finally decided to plan a trip to the area that I will actually have wedding in. So off we go for the weekend to meet with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- the venue staff&lt;br /&gt;- the caterer&lt;br /&gt;- the photographer&lt;br /&gt;- the DJ&lt;br /&gt;- Florist 1&lt;br /&gt;-Florist 2&lt;br /&gt;- Baker 1&lt;br /&gt;-Baker 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we will spend time with my parents, and his parents, oh and our friends who still live there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that we have to go to the City planning board to figure out what type if any permit we need to have our outdoor ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All from 3 pm Friday to 11am Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to refer to this as a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:( First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6515058285096714540?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6515058285096714540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6515058285096714540&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6515058285096714540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6515058285096714540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/weekend-wedding-marathon.html' title='Weekend Wedding Marathon'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5762411491436863948</id><published>2007-06-04T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T19:17:01.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grades</title><content type='html'>Dear Professor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much for gracing me with my grade, afterall one can hardly expect that you could read all those short answers in a mere 1 month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, your counterpart (my other professor) still has not decided to post his grades.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder, are you saving your mystery for the final moment of reveal? Do you get off on thinking about us students, checking on the site each and every day, holding our breath while the page loads, and getting all pissed when we still see a "-"  where there should be an actual letter representing our grade for the entire last semester? Is it a sick rush? Are you really sitting there with a pile of graded papers purposefully holding out until the last second?  Or..... do you want us to think that you are some super busy in demand person, and this could not possibly find the time to grade all those papers in the time before the actual "deadline" or "a month after".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5762411491436863948?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5762411491436863948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5762411491436863948&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5762411491436863948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5762411491436863948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/grades.html' title='Grades'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3580157962520722878</id><published>2007-06-03T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T08:23:11.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laziest Blogger....Ever</title><content type='html'>Yes yes, exam are long over, perhaps it just took  me a month to recover from the trauma before I was able to come back here? Or perhaps I fell into a laziness spiral, finally freed from mind numbing outline making and reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I am back. I am also 90 days away from my wedding :) I finally bought my gown, at the last moment of course, and I have a lot of the major details at least partially settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guest list has gotten a little out of control, so my small and intimate 50 person wedding might be growing into a 60-70 person family I haven't seen in 15 years fest. (Sigh) At least there is space in the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a mini-rant:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid Asshole with TB--&gt; What the fuck is wrong with you??? You say you didn't know how serious it was when the CDC contacted you and ordered you into isolation (and were also planning on flying the jet out to get your diseased ass back to the states). Excuse me????? I believe if the CDC contacted ME I would definetly be thinking something serious was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not you, "real man of genius", you decided to sneak into the USA. Why sneak? Oh  because you were ordered not to fly on commercial planes, and your passport was flagged, so you couldn't actually fly into America. Why not do the next best thing? Just fly to Canada, and drive over the border....yes it does make you sound a little like a terrorist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, you fucking suck as a person, selfish ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3580157962520722878?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3580157962520722878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3580157962520722878&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3580157962520722878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3580157962520722878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/laziest-bloggerever.html' title='Laziest Blogger....Ever'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-4566538114114035006</id><published>2007-05-09T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T10:38:59.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day....</title><content type='html'>Is it wrong that I feel we should celebrate me for mother's day? I think I would like to celebrate NOT being a mother this mother's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what to do.... something "anti-motherly". Any ideas? I had original thought a strip club and an encounter with a bottle of vodkah, but I don't know how doable that is for a Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, in case you were wondering, finals are in fact over for me!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-4566538114114035006?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/4566538114114035006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=4566538114114035006&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4566538114114035006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4566538114114035006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
