Street names and nursing homes

The street that I work has a four different names. 2 actual street address, find-it-on-Google-maps names and two "honorary" names. The two real names: Duane St. and Federal Plaza. The two fake names: Paul O'Dwyer way and also FBI Special Agent Someone-or-Other St. Doesn't it kind of take the honor out of having a street named after you if it's also named after someone else? It's bad enough that they don't actually rename the street--they just add a name that you need to have remarkable vision to notice and be able to read.

Amusingly, despite the fact that no one notices all of New York's "honorary" names for streets (of which there are many, since some of them appear to only cover a block or two), there has been a recent controversy over renaming a street in my neighborhood in Brooklyn. Go figure.

Moving on...

The last two weeks have been better at work. I am helping out an attorney who is working on a nursing home case, which is actually very interesting work. Unfortunately I spend a lot of time waiting around for her to tell me about what she wants to do next.

Basically, the State gov't (in this case, the NY Department of Health), inspects nursing homes on a regular basis. The surveyors issue something called a "Statement of Deficiencies" (if there are deficiencies) which identifies the scope and severity of each deficiency. Each level of scope/severity is assigned a letter. L is the worst--Widespread immediate jeopardy to resident health or safety, and A is the least serious--Isolated/No actual harm with potential for minimal harm. Sometimes (often) these nursing homes appeal the surveyor's findings and our imposition of remedies (such as monetary penalties, termination of the provider agreement, denial of payment for new admissions, etc.). When they do so, we represent Medicare at an administrative hearing.

Science and the person next to me

Something strange happened to me today. Well, not that strange, but at least notable.

I left for work around 45 minutes late today, after getting 3 hours of sleep last night and just dragging this morning. At either the Clinton-Washington or Lafayette stops, a girl sat next to me on the train. At some point I glanced up from my book (Mark Twain's Life on the Mississippi) and did a double-take--I realized I knew this girl sitting next to me. She went to New College, and in fact, I'm pretty sure she started at the same time I did. I wanted to say her name was 'Kate.' One of the classic hippy-types that's almost extinct now.

Anyway, I kinda tried to get her attention, but she looked about as dead as I did. Later on I noticed her glancing at me in the "don't I know you" way...but I was too tired to come up with an appropriate way to address her. After all, her name might not be Kate. And holding a 20 minute conversation with her while half-asleep could very easily be brutal. So instead I just kept reading and never said anything to her. Oh well, it's not like we were friends.

This isn't the first time I've run into New College students in the middle of the City, but it is a bit weird when one unknowingly sits down next to you on a train!

In an unrelated tangent, I've been missing science. I'm not that great at science, and it can be a struggle for me to understand some concepts, but I miss spending time trying to wrap my mind around complex scientific concepts and theories. I've been reading these science articles in the New York Times. They've been making me long for my biochem book, and the computer programs used to model proteins. It was so cool learning science on that level, and now I'm reduced to reading pop science. I'm not even sure I could understand actual scientific articles now. I had a hard enough time understanding them when I was a science student.

Firm observations and the past few weeks

So, it turns out that I have nothing to do at work, for the fourth or fifth day (but not in a row). Lame. I'd write some about the interesting things I've done at my job, but...I can't. At least, not without passwording this blog. Maybe in very general topical terms, but that's it.

New York city is a different place in the summer. First of all, it's absolutely flooded with tourists, making it hard to walk. Second, there's free and cheap stuff going on all the time. Third, it just seems different to me because I'm working in a different neighborhood and not horribly stressed out. In fact, I'm not stressed at all. My grades are in, I got the schedule I wanted for next semester, and I've made a big dent on firm research. I have to narrow the 200+ firm list to 50 by the end of next week, but that's starting to feel doable. The massive spreadsheet is coming along, I tell ya.

Things I've learned since beginning my firm research:

- All big law firms have a "collegial" environment--whatever that means
- When the New York office is a branch office, it only does the most boring corporate work--think mergers and acquisitions, executive compensation, and complex financial transactions
- Most big law firms do very little plaintiff-side work because they represent so many Fortune 500 companies that it almost inevitably presents conflicts of interest
- The culture of each law firm varies by department, so reviews are useless
- Most health care work in New York involves representing the biggest pharmas around, meaning I'm well on my way to soul-selling
- "Complex product liability litigation" means defending huge product liability class actions
- "Employment law" means defending huge companies from employees that sue them and figuring out how to give massive amounts of compensation to CEOs and COOs
- Associates at all firms are unhappy about the sporadic work, unpredictable and long hours, and the bonuses (regardless of the method for rewarding them, and particularly where the method is unknown)
- Associates at all top firms think most partners are nice, most associates are friendly, and their law firm has more reasonable hours than all the other law firms

Other observations from recent weeks:

- When I'm sick and am dragging I still walk faster than the tourists
- I'm one or two science classes short of being qualified for the patent bar
- Men are more likely to be obsessive elevator button pushers. Why oh why do they feel the need to push the button for the floor when it's already lit up? I can't help but think this is something left over from the days of yelling "I want to push the button!" as little kids. Maybe they're making up for lost time.
- The Chicago El is so pleasant during the summer and so unpleasant during the winter. The Subway is so pleasant during the winter and so unpleasant during the summer. Getting stuck next to that sweaty guy just sucks.
- The guy who serves me my coffee at J&B coffee looks like Kal Penn.

Things I've done over the past few weeks:

- Go to the Met for the first time
- Tried to go to Opera in the Park
- Watched short films on the roof of a high school in the lower east side
- Went to the Coney Island Mermaid Parade
- Watched a lot of Braves games

Well, that's about it for now. I'll try to keep blogging if I'm going to keep not having work to do. Seems like a valid thing to do!

on life, but not profound, at all

The random philosophical-esque intro to last week's Grey's Anatomy happened to be about something that's been bugging me for months--the idea that not everyone is destined for greatness. In fact, most people aren't. But we assume we are.

Does everyone assume their life will work out great, or is just the lucky ones like me who grew up with no need unfulfilled and limitless encouragement? While it's great that I spent my entire life knowing that I could do whatever I wanted, I went through a bizarre panic a few months ago.

It finally hit me that my life isn't going to turn out how I want. That isn't to presume that it's going to turn out badly, or even that looking back from my deathbed I won't be happy with it. But it's not going to turn out how I want, looking forward, right now. It also won't turn out how I expect. And, even more disturbingly, there's a significant chance I won't be happy with how it turns out.

Maybe this sounds obvious to most people, but I found it rather shocking. It's also somewhat amusing that right now, while my life is more "on track" than ever before, I would be plagued by such thoughts. But, I think maybe that's it. Now that I'm here, thrilled that I'm at a great law school and feeling more privileged than ever before, I realize more than ever that life doesn't simple "work out." I think I've spent a lot of the past many years looking at life as reaching "life markers": turning 18, then 21, graduating college, etc. It seems like the further you go, the less clear the markers become. Where do I want to be in 5 years? It's no longer so simple. (Taking 7 years to graduate college gives you a long time with one goal, maybe that's why I'm a bit disoriented!)

Anyway, that's pretty much what I'm lying here thinking about. Life doesn't turn out how you want. Also, there's a hell of a lot of sadness and pain in life. I've spent most of my life being terrified of pain I haven't yet encountered, under the strange semi-karmic (long before I'd ever heard the word karma or it's incorrect usage) belief that I'm overdue for serious pain. Severe hurt or sadness or something. I'm still terrified of this. It's kind of like pitching a no-hitter. The further along the game goes, the more pressure is on the pitcher, and the more they think about not giving up a hit. It can become overwhelming. And the longer he goes without letting up a hit, the more painful he knows any hit will be. 5th inning hit is bad, but he knows an 8th inning hit will tear him up inside.

So far my no-hitter has been amazing, but giving up that first hit is going to be so painful...

hardly surreal

Sometimes my life seems surreal. Okay, so mostly when I'm drunk. Or, well, tipsy. I've always wanted to spell it 'typsy,' but I think that's wrong. That has something to do with when I first heard the word. Berck was telling me about Courtney getting drunk, and he told me Courtney said he was just 'typsy.' And that's how it was spelled in my mind...forever more.

Anyway, when I'm typsy, and sitting alone in the subway station, my life seems surreal. Tonight, around 2:00 a.m., I was sitting there listening to music and reading Faulkner. Faulkner is weird when I'm sober, but it's even weirder when I'm not. And music is cooler when you're not entirely sober.

Earlier, when I was waiting for a train on my way to Manhattan, there were (at least) 3 mice running around, in and out of this hole in the wall, right by me. Usually I see rats in the subway, and they're always in the tracks or otherwise far away, but these were three little mice, running around right under the bench. Once, in the same station (my station), I saw a big rat run out of the tunnels and stop right next to the this guy. He didn't respond, which I thought was very New York of him. Then, the rat started running back to the tunnels. The guy, who was like a foot away, suddenly noticed him and physically jumped. I was amused. This is why I love public transit. It involves the public. Despite my usual hatred for the public, I sometimes rather enjoy it...them...ugh, pronouns.

Our language has pronoun problems. When writing my memo (due at noon on Sunday--wtf?!?) I had problems with the antecedent/pronoun agreement for corporations and universities. "Baxter Corp. was prohibited from using ___ bone marrow separation devices." Should be its. But their sounds more natural. Berck says in Britain they would say "Baxter Corp. were prohibited from using their bone marrow separation devices." That makes more sense. (Btw, Baxter wasn't...CellPro was, due to a patent owned by JHU and licensed to Baxter.)

Does it make sense that we use federal money to buy AIDS drugs which were developed with federal money? Policies are whacked. It's just funny the different political circles around those two policies. Perhaps the result would be different if considered together, but I'm not sure. I'm probably not in any state to be discussing this...

Okay, I'm off to watch a bit of Ally and return to my mind, which I rather like.

legal absurdity

Okay, sometimes (often) lawsuits just reach a point of absurdity.

I'm currently reading a suit that arose out of the building of the Memphis City Hall in the 1960s. Apparently there was some sort of problem with the marble! So...

The supplier of the marble sued the subcontractor in charge of installing the marble, the general contractor, the City, their supplier, and the insurance company for the job

the subcontractor counter-sued the supplier, sued the general contractor, the insurance company, the city, AND the architect

the general contractor counter-sued the marble supplier and the subcontractor

Confused? Yeah, so am I. And the court allowed all of these claims to go forward in one action. so currently, the parties to the action are: the general contractor, the subcontractor, the insurance company, the city, the marble supplier, the marble supplier's supplier, and the architect--most of whom have all sued each other. Awesome.

Spam poetry

"Biracial is myself beyond family encounter it simply situation or.
Geekiness of argument damn obtaining in reader!"

"Bad advice provides a proof many."

"And I quite agree
Not being devoted we were innocent of all crime"

"The message has arrived-it is time to leave. The search has widened."

So the newest spam method is to load the front of an e-mail with nonsensical combinations of words that vaguely resemble english language, hence eluding spam filters. In fact, I've actually had a few of these make it through to my inbox, which is pretty rare.

I don't know why these nonsensical word combos amuse me so much, but they do. It's like a combination of magnetic poetry and ad-libs.