Happiness writes white.

Turns out you never know just how many people are reading your blog until you promise to post something "tomorrow" (you will now note the retroactive amendment to "next time") and don't follow through. Thanks, everyone. I love you, too.

I still plan to spend some time here comparing the speculations of my law school thesis on the serious problems facing the proposed plan for the Hussein trial against the inevitable realities of the Saddam and Friends Funtime Genocide Show Trial Hour currently on hold in Baghdad, but bigger things have come up since. I ended up spending most of last weekend researching and writing a motion to suppress for one of the firms I interviewed with ("We Know What You Want," Entrevistas!, infra) for a high-profile federal white-collar criminal defense case. I worked really hard, stayed really obsessive about it, and was summarily rewarded earlier today with the promise of all the work I want from them at a very nice hourly rate. To review: good money, no strict commitment, interesting work, and the freedom to set my own hours and do everything from home. There's also the long-term possibility of an offer if things work out. So, yeah. Pretty much everything anyone could want while they're still looking for full-time work.

The criminal case was sexy stuff: wiretapping, money laundering, flagrant government misconduct, etc. The most recent assignment is largely a lost cause: salvaging some kind of opposition for the government's motion to dismiss in a tax case in which--frankly speaking--any federal court should have every right to toss. But that's why litigation is (or can be) so much fun... there's always a response to everything.

All is full of love...

Twist your head around--
it's all around you.
All is full of love,
all around you.

--Björk Gudmundsdottir

(The album version is weak tea next to the lovely video-only remix, which is the loveliest love song to come out of Iceland. Download it now.)

So, yeah. I wish you all love. Or--if not love--at least something short of a faceful of birdshot.

Next time: Why I was totally right--and the American government totally wrong--about the Hussein trial.

¡Entrevistas!

I know I've been slacking on this topic, so let's compare and contrast some recent experiences, shall we?

INTERVIEW #1: WE KNOW WHAT YOU WANT

First take: I think half the interview was testing my ability to meet the guy in his Quincy office (although the job, happily enough, is in Boston) at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. So I guess I passed that part.

Basically: Interesting small firm with a strong reputation, a former MA AG on the letterhead, and a lot of government business.

But: Hints of dissent among the ranks. Long explanation of compensation structure. (Which is positive, I guess? Never had this happen before.) Interviewer almost totally unable to make eye contact with me, despite my recent ability to overcome my own overwhelming aversion to same for convenient one-hour increments as needed.

Left it with: Request for a writing sample. Strong possibility that they would try me out by having me work on some federal briefs. Hint that interviewer was the only partner strongly in favor of taking on new and untested talent.

Final impression: Cautious optimism. Also, tired. So very tired.


INTERVIEW #2: WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

First take: Founder invented Digital Angel, the controversial tracking chip that is powered by the human bloodstream, can broadcast any amount of information within certain given parameters--age, race, exact location, current heartrate, favorite Star Trek episode, etc.--to orbital satellites, and really pretty much exactly fits every speculation about how the Mark of the Beast (go ask Kirk Cameron, kids; I don't have time for this just now) is supposed to operate. So that's, y'know, kind of sexy.

Basically: Small firm with a very attractive Cambridge office and a steady stream of unexceptional cases. Plenty of court time, and a lot of experience to be gained immediately.

But: Cambridge office is tiny, with only two other attorneys. I only met my interviewer, and liked him immediately, but this could still be a problem. Also, no billables, which is great in that my life wouldn't be reduced to fifteen-minute increments, but may not bode well for general quality of cases handled.

Left it with: Quick office tour, some good-natured Digital Angel jokes, and strong callback possibilities.

Final impression: Fully expecting a callback, and wouldn't be surprised at an offer. Good place to gain a lot of experience very quickly for anywhere up to a year.

So there you go. Probably telling more than I should, but I know that these are just the kinds of details that keep you coming back. Both of you.

"Factor" this!

No word from the O'Reilly machine. Which means: I win. And you, sir, are a COWARD.

I guess it could have been worse, though, since I gave him my number and all: the man's an infamous drunk-dialer, with a libidinal imagination (falafel, anyone? I'd link to this, but someone has to think of the children) that belies the moralistic, grandfatherly character he plays on his nightly sitcom. Anyway, if half of the things alleged in last year's sexual harrassment suit last year were true, he's infinitely more creepy than our last President ever was. At least women liked Clinton. (Well, most of them. But sexual harrassment is a total numbers game: there's always going to be one Paula Jones for every few dozen Monicas, right? Right.)

Anyway. I just had to refocus my annoyance, as I'm still getting over the sudden death of my laptop. I think the motherboard's probably fried--the Dell guy's coming out later this week to replace it--which means that this unlimited warranty thing has already paid for itself.

Two interviews last week, both of which felt pretty good. More about these next time.

A note on anonymity

I think I've mentioned this in the past, but I'm trying to keep this whole process as anonymous as possible, for reasons I would hope would be obvious. Paranoia breeds certainty, sort of, and I need all the certainty I can manufacture right now.

Implications:

1) I can't allow comments that mention my name or reveal too much identifying information. This is why even some of the best-intentioned comments have been screened out right along with the stalker-y ones.
2) I can't tell you more than a cursory summary of places I've interviewed, and--just to be safe--I can't really tell you anything but good things about these places... unless, of course, I have no intention of working there. (See "Interview with the Soul Vampires," infra.) I've actually left out several interviews in the past few months, simply because I really wanted the jobs and didn't want to compromise my chances.
3) This post will self-destruct in thirty seconds...