Washington, DC.

Photo: Chinatown, DC. 09.29.2007
First day in DC, and guess where I go?

A leave-taking.

Photo: Indian Desert. 09.24.2007

A last dinner with some friends at an Indian restaurant on Newbury.

One last chance to look at Boston, bustling in the night. What a thing it is, to take one's leave!

Photo: Flowers! 09.26.2007

My co-workers surprise me with flowers today, on my last day of work. Thinking back, I've only received flowers three times, ever. First was when I graduated from college. Second was when I graduated from law school. And the third-- This probably means I need some romance in my life.

But they are lovely, and sit on my window ledge, in the morning sun.

Modern love?

Photo: The Odd Couple. 10.15.2005

The New York Times published an article this week titled, "Putting Money on the Table." Within, the author outlined a new dilemma for modern men and women - tensions over money that tossed the rules of traditional love on their heads:

"For the first time, women in their 20s who work full time in several big American cities - New York, Chicago, Boston and Minneapolis - are earning higher wages than men in the same age range...

"53 percent of women employed full time in their 20s were college graduates, compared with 38 percent of men. Women are also more likely to have graduate degrees...

"To her, his lack of income masked a greater problem: a lack of drive."

From my own prior experience - unbacked by scientific data, I freely admit - I agree with "her".

These days, it seems like American men are the domesticating gender. They are looking for that sweet girl to settle down. They are shopping for that house in the suburbs. They are seeking that work-life balance, but with an increasing emphasis on leisure. Some are getting older, yet refuse to grow up, as though by denying their age, they are excused from the responsibilities of adulthood.

Instead, I see more young women who burn with ambition: to trot the globe, to write that novel, to strive for that mega-salary, to find that near-perfect boyfriend, and live the ever more consumer-glorious American dream..

Note: by this, I emphatically do not mean that money and power are the only gauge of a worthy human being. The breakdown of traditional gender roles, and the opening of new social possibilities, can only be to the good. I applaud the rise of new-age men, emotionally expressive and accepting of equality. And many young women certainly have not stopped dreaming about weddings and babies.

But why the disparity in education, salary, and life goals? The opening up of one social niche should make for a more equalized society, with a similar percentage of women and men oriented to power and advancement, another to love and leisure, and others distributed everywhere with out and in between. The growth of one should not mean the diminshing of another!

I ask you: To have clear goals, a sense of purpose in life, and taking focused, realistic steps to achieve them... That isn't asking too much, is it?

But my deepest kudos - to everyone, chefs, soldiers, lawyers, artists, doctors, interior designers, what have you - who are already on their path!

State of the Profession.

Photo: Going. 08.25.2007.

This morning, The Wall Street Journal posted this article, titled "Hard Case: Job Market Wanes for U.S. Lawyers," on their front page.

It gave dire statistics which are old news to recent law grads, and outlined the dismal state of the profession. Namely, that the elites are doing better (top law firm salary hikes to $160,000 this year), while the peasants merely scrape along (starting at around $35,000).

Some bitter discussion then deluged The WSJ Blog. Lawyers, law students, commented by the hundreds, with eloquence fueled by frustration and despair. They spoke of their crushing education debts, and the lack of lucrative jobs. They denounced law schools for being profit-driven, promulgating the fiction that lawyers lived a Boston Legal lifestyle, with Law & Order excitement. They put forth salary calculations. What is the point of a Tier 2 education, if BigLaw pays it no mind? And for those who graduated Tier 3 and Tier 4? Verdict: Might as well go and shoot themselves, to end the income-less misery.

Since becoming a lawyer, I am familiar with the low morale of the profession. I have heard the horror stories. I have experienced some on my own. One interviewer came right out and said, "I hate what I'm doing, but this was the only job I could get. And now, I am hiring you so I could do less of this crap."

And yet, I do not understand it. A law education--like everything else--could only benefit those who consider it an asset, and use it with strategy. It serves only one purpose--to add value to you. Who thinks, have goals, and makes decisions that ultimately control your life.

The profession is indeed saturated, but you are not trapped in a dead-end street. Be prepared to suffer some drastic short-term hardship, in order to acquire the tools for long-term success. Graduated from other than a Top 10 law school? Apply to be a prosecutor, and package yourself into a great trial attorney. Hate the petty back-and-forth of litigation? Network into regulatory or in-house or consulting fields. Want to make the big dollars? Start spending time with entrepreneurs, and see if you could catch the flights as they go up and out.

With intellect and flexibility, tempered by careful financial planning, what can limit you, but yourself?

Preparing to say goodbye.

Photo: Boston at Dusk. 09.2007
In the days before I had my driver's license, I used to think Boston was a small, boring city.

My mind was full of tender yearnings for New York, or Chicago, or LA. Or Shanghai, or Hong Kong, or Beijing. Or London. Or Paris. Or Venice.. --Wait a minute, it still is! Nevermind.

Regardless, after one full year, I am finally synching to the rhythm of this city. Despite a truly moronic memory for geography, I now know a few secret parking spaces, as well as some hole-in-the-wall restaurants.

I have walked the banks of the Charles.

I have hanged in a reasonable number of hip places, and saw the trannie show at Jacques, and played pool at Felt, and partook of the desserts at Finale's.

I have window-shopped in Copley. I have spent slow afternoons, flipping through magazines at Borders Downtown, then ransacked the inventory of So Good Jewelry. I have breakfasted mid-Sunday morning on Newberry. I have dined post-clubbing in Chinatown, at 3AM.

I am conversant with the T. I can navigate Storrow Drive.

I am finally starting to feel like a Bostonian--or at least, no longer a stranger. But now, I must pack up and start the show anew, all over again. This is heartbreaking. Just a little.

On a brighter note: I have never taken the duck-tour, which according to some (drifters themselves from other cities), is the one activity that makes for a true Bostonian. That, and become a die-hard Red Sox fan.

Maybe I should put that on my to-do list, before I leave. Or maybe I am just deluding myself that I'll actually finish packing before the day I leave, and have the time for such irrelevance!

Strange item.

Photo: Car. 08.2007

Some things just happen for no reason.

Relationship. (What else?)

Photo: The Party. 08.2007
Sometimes I wonder how people manage to find and connect one with another. So many elements could potentially clash or mismatch, so that after the initial passionate fires, we are left like anonymous ships, only tenuously moored together.

I've had a few of those before. The joyful excitement of the initial days, followed by rapid decline into flatness and ennui. His beautiful physique becomes nothing special--I've seen better on billboards and commercials. His amazing ability to dress like a modern Cary Grant on budget? Ugh; he spends more time getting ready than I do.

So I admit: I've spent my green years committing the sin of superficiality. So I confess: I have sought to pleasure only the eyes, but not the mind. So I conclude: It is easier to say no, than to force together what (I predict) is not meant to be, or merely settle for mediocrity.

Yet most people seem to do fine. They meet, they hang, they attach, and happiness--or at least a good semblance--ensues. And not only so, but seemingly so easily. How? Somebody, throw me a clue!

Am I blinded by the myth of compatibility? Do I expect too much from what is, after all, only one of the many relationships in life? Am I suffering that ridiculous malais of modern women, expecting not companionship, but love and soul-deep understanding, in a package repleat with ambition, humor, intellect, and a six-pack to boot?

Or worse, am I turning into Carrie Bradshaw?

So I return to reality: 運命惟所遇, 循環不可尋. What will come, will come.

New daily affirmation: "I will be open to all the opportunities Life present me, and be content."

--Ha ha, hell no! Do you even know me? Daily affirmations, indeed!

So it starts.

These days it seems like everybody has a blog.

I was reading just the other day that we are entering a new age of absolute disclosure. Apparently what separates one generation from the next is ... the sense of privacy. On the one hand, we have a tide of precocious little kids, flickring and youtubing and blogging away, revealing to the world all the painful and secret and irrelevant bits of themselves. On the other, we have geezers who barely understand the joys of Internet, let alone Web 2.0.

Regardless, it comes down to this. I, being a flotsom creature, moved by the winds and swept by the waves, have now decided to follow where the masses have tread a solid path. So this is my blog.

I wonder if life will imitate art (or merely artifice)? Will I, like Cecilia from The Importance of Being Ernest, create a wildly entertaining online self, in the hopes that my real life will follow?

... Nah.