City of Angels

I found the therapeutic powers of sunny skies and warm temperatures to be absolutely amazing. For the past few days, I have been hanging out with a dear old friend in southern California. When I left Boston, it was a balmy fifty degrees – but the day before, it was hovering slightly below the freezing mark. Therefore, I was certainly surprised and relieved at the fact that when my American Airlines yet (I refuse to fly Delta anymore) touched down at LAX and the temperature reading was in the 60’s.

Since being in Southern California, I have felt like a completely different person – one that has been buried deep within as a result of the frigid cold that has plagued the Northeast for the past few months. Certainly, I have been searching for avenues of escape from this cabin fever, which I now strongly believe contributed greatly to the sense of seasonal depression that I have been feeling lately. Needless to say, LA provided a perfect outlet to spend some time away from home, and away from the unnecessary pressures that have plagued my life – ranging from frustration at work to the uncertainty of law school admissions.

Granted, I have never been one to run away from the issues that I need to confront. At the same time, at least I know that I would be returning home in a few days with a fresh outlook on my current situation. Hopefully, I may be able to apply this outlook to the issues that I may have to deal with back home. In other words, Los Angeles has provided me a beacon of light with which I could use as a guide..

In the last couple of days, I have been overwhelmed by the different life style that many seem to embody as compared to Boston. Aside from the incessant number of hours spent driving around the vast Los Angeles county, LA has provided an amazing experience for me to reflect upon. I have been to most of the neighborhoods in LA county, with Venice Beach topping the list as my favorite destination because of the diversity in the crowd, as well as the beauty of the waves crashing into the remarkably smooth sandy beaches.

The most significant experience in this trip that seems to immediately pop into my head, was my visit to the UCLA campus. Never before, have I felt such a great sense of awe with regard to a magnificent college campus. The sight of the beautiful quad, traditional buildings, and beautifully paved campus nearly gave me tingles as I came to truly understand why so many people come to California and never leave.

At the same time, I tried rather hard to relate the euphoric feeling that I had towards the campus, to my current law school aspirations. I have honestly never even considered California as a destination for legal studies. My mindset, for as long as I could remember, was to remain in the Northeast, save some money, and establish a network for my future legal practice. Upon walking on the UCLA campus (not to mention the many conversations I had with my dear friend with regard to risk aversion), I was quick to realize that perhaps my calculated approach to life, may not have been the best decision.

For a long time now, I have been searching for elements to complete a sense of emptiness that has plagued my well-being. It was on this southern California campus that I may have realized at least one of the missing elements – a sense of gratified risk payoff. To put it a different way – one of the best feelings in the world is to know that you have accomplished something that may have incipiently been thought of to be impossible (think Harold & Kumar in Whitecastle…the inexplicable feeling of accomplishment for gaining that one thing you truly long for). But against all odds, you manage to achieve your goals – thus resulting in an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

My presence on the UCLA campus on that day made me realize that seemingly all my life, I have played it safe. Economics was a safe major; so is attending law school in the region that I have become all too complacent. Everything that I have done up to this pointing my life has seemingly been calculated to a point where the sense of failure has been minimized to the greatest degree possible. Perhaps it is this realization that I have lacked that incredible feeling that may come with feeling the rewards of a risk well-taken – thus contributing to the sense of nagging emptiness that I have felt for so long.

How – one may ask – did I gain such an inflexion point standing on a UC campus? UCLA symbolizes a remarkably high goal for most people trying to gain entrance into its doors. Even more so, are the fewer students who are trying to gain admissions into their law school. Therefore, UCLA represents what I think I should shrive for at this point in my life so that it may serve as some sort of motivation to life and studies. To me, LA seems like this incredibly wonderful place (most probably because the places that have been chosen for me have been unique in their own sense, and therefore, represent all that is good about this region) and yet, I do not seem to deserve such a heaven-like state of living – at least not at this point in my life.

However, if I choose to apply my work ethic and fledging intellectual capabilities, I may one day end up in such a magnificent metaphorical place. Please keep in mind, though, that I am using LA as a metaphor for such a magnificent destination when in fact, this destination can be anywhere. Do I need to take some magnificent risk in order to reach this destination? Probably – but only then will I truly be able to feel a huge sense of gratification with my own decisions.

That is why I respect and admire the decision that this dear friend made to come out LA – despite the plethora of reasons pushing her to the contrary. By taking such a life-changing risk, she has managed to come out on top, albeit plenty of trial by fire. Otherwise, she may have been left stranded five years down the line asking herself, “What if?” Even though she seemingly made this decision to the opposition of many of her friends and colleagues, in the end, you must always look for what is best for you, and not what everyone else thinks is the best for you. So far, I haven’t the slightest clue what is best for me. However, I hope to be prepared to take that risk when the necessary time arrives.

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It is Monday afternoon and I am still in Southern California, typing away on a park bench in a beautiful, secluded park tucked into the suburban neighborhood of San Marino. The weather is probably hovering about sixty degrees with overcast skies with a slight breeze. The reasons that led to my being here in the park, instead of the Northeast, can completely be attributed to my inability to read an online calendar. It turns out that I misread my itinerary before I took off for California, and I never bothered to check my ticket the whole time I have been here. The prospect of messing up my flight was foreign to me. Therefore, I can only laugh at the fact when I was standing at the airport E-ticket kiosk on Sunday night, absolutely bewildered because I wasn’t going to make it home for work on Monday morning via the red-eye flight.

What this translates to is another day in Southern California – which I normally wouldn’t be complaining about – except for the fact that my being here cuts into my friend’s daily schedule in which she did not plan. This experience is slightly reminiscent of the time last year when I was in Miami while a Nor’easter pummeled the eastern sea board. Luckily, our flight was not cancelled, but my girlfriend-at-the-time’s flight (we broke up during the trip) was cancelled because she was flying to Newark.

Even though the situations may not necessarily parallel one another exactly, there are some strange resemblances. The most significant one, though, is that I had a choice to remain in Miami – but for some un-compelling reason, I chose to leave. In this situation, however, it wasn’t choice that led me to stay at my destination longer. Rather, fate seemingly controlled this situation to the end (or else, I would be forced to admit my short-comings when it comes to reading calendars on orbitz.com). Yet, I didn’t hesitate or regret my extra day in Southern California, and may have chosen the same option had the opportunity arisen. Therein was the difference.

I don’t exactly know how to read into this situation, except that it may contribute to my current desires for adventure. My whole predicament with my interrupted travel plans is not characteristic of my being, as far as I’m concerned. I am usually quite detail-oriented when it comes to meticulously planning trips and making sure that I follow the schedule from beginning to end (with a complete disregard with what goes on in the middle). The deviation from a scheduled regiment is something in which I am unfamiliar, but I will seldom refuse these unplanned situations into my otherwise mundane life. In fact, I hope that this trend continues, so that I will be able to break free from this strangle-hold that has controlled my life. What’s the fun in predictability anyway? I have plenty of time to be predictable while in law school.

One more thing: the fears presented in the last entry turned out to be completely unfounded. I should be okay…for now.

Depression Intact

This whole process has made me feel an overwhelming sense of depression right now, and this feeling has just been exacerbated further by the news that I have missed the financial aid deadline at UConn. What this essentially means is that I will not be considered for any grants, but rather, but straddled with a mountain of loans. Of course, I have no one to blame but myself. How can I be so stupid in not reading my acceptance letter completely? How have I done nothing to follow up with the status of my financial aid? Why is it that time again, I fail to come through when it matters most -particularly because this is one of the most important decisions that I will make in my lifetime?

As a result, I am not feeling myself - forced to turn inward and internalize the rage that I have been feeling. There is no one to blame but myself. I hate myself.

UCONN Law

Law school can be the beginning of something incredibly enlightening. The prospect of attending signifies the attainment of a goal that I set for myself many years ago. Since then, I have seemingly designed my career decisions based on this assumption that I will ultimately end up in law school. The significance of this achievement is perhaps why I am so reluctant on making a hasty decision with regard to where I want to go – there just seems to be so many unanswered questions, as well as questions that may not have crossed my mind yet.

Nevertheless, I visited the University of Connecticut School of Law two weeks prior to their scheduled open house for accepted students this past weekend. In a sense, I wanted to see for myself what the campus felt like on a typical week where the administration has not taken the liberty to beautify the school in an attempt to entice prospective students. Thank goodness my friend was available to show the group around. Otherwise, we may have been left with only the shell of an impression because all the doors to the buildings were locked.

There are so many positive attributes that I can think of in attending the UCONN. For one thing, the school provides a great education at an extremely affordable price. UCONN also yields a solid reputation in the legal community, and it would provide me with equal access to both Boston and New York City after graduation. The campus is almost everything that I desired in a school: gothic architecture, tradition, and a sense of community solidified by a beautiful campus in a wonderful location in West Harford.

Granted, the campus is but a stone’s throw to the ghetto. But the dichotomy between the rich and the poor will serve as an ever lasting reminder of the socio-economic differences – unlike Skidmore, where anything outside of upper middle class was not visible. Most significant of all, though, is that Hartford will be able to provide me with a home away from home. There are so many factors that seemingly guide me away from the prospect of staying in Boston. Quite frankly, staying at home for my three years of law school – a time of self-reflection and the ground works of a fledging career – simply does not warrant the kind of self-growth and reflection that I seek in my current life.

On the other hand, though, I am reluctant to face the social prospect of attending a school away from a major metropolitan area. The diversity of the student body will certainly play an extremely significant role in influencing my decision. What the last two years have taught me - which essentially reaffirmed my previous beliefs – is that I connect much better with minorities – and in particular Asians.

The thought of having to deal with another social bubble during my three years of law school would serve as a huge impediment to my success, as I have come to strongly believe that success in life is determined largely by the people that you meet, and the environment in which you are presented. Therefore, the operative question should be: Should I focus solely on my education in an attempt to further my career afterwards? Or should I take my time in law school as a chance to develop intellectually and socially, where I would look to make life long friends and colleagues after graduation? Which do I value more, and will it be possible for me to obtain these factors in another law school?

APA provoking thoughts

Alas, the mourning period for Brownie is over. It is time to move on with my blog...

In the last week, I have attended a couple of Asian-centric events: The first one was a lecture by a good friend at Tufts University, who was the recipient of the 2005 Watson Fellowship. He went on to study the development of hip-hop culture in several different countries in Asia. More recently, I attended the Harvard APALSA Conference on Law and Public Policy ("Yellow Peril?")- where future badass lawyers of the world congregated at the law school to share their sentiments with regard to APA related issues. I shall elaborate more closely on both of these events below.

Hip Hop Culture in Asia

I have always known my friend Ryan to be a fantastic activist with regard to APA related issues. Therefore, I was excited to see him speak at Tufts University, particularly because we missed each other in Houston after my debacle at the airport a couple of weeks ago. Nevertheless, this time was going to be the first time that I would see him speak and engage in a topic that is of significant importance to him. Originally, I thought his talk was going to be mostly about what he studied in Asia: How Hip Hop Culture made its way to the Far East, and simply how that development has evolved with the changing socio, economic, political, and popular culture.

His passion for this topic was captivating and I was quite impressed with his ability to speak with such confidence on the subject matter. I was pleasantly surprised, though, when he seemingly changed the course of the topic to be more reflective of the broader Asian-American identity, and how there is a pressing need to develop a culture that we can claim as our own – and it was this part of the lecture that truly stuck with me.

The most thought-provoking question that he presented was simple, “What is Asian American culture?” – in which no one in the room could answer, including myself. Upon further reflection in the car with friends, I came to the realization that I have always had a specific definition for what Asian American culture means to me. More specifically, I have always perceived that the mere fact I have grown up in a bi-cultural setting, has in return, created a distinct Asian American culture. On the one hand, I speak Chinese at home and with my relatives; listen to Chinese songs; watch Chinese movies. On the other hand, I am as main stream as what most people would consider a typical American northeast liberal person: liberal arts college graduate; collegiate rower; avid cyclist; TV enthusiast. Therefore, my ability to straddle both cultures, in my definition, represents the true Asian American culture that I embody.

Upon further correlation with Ryan’s statement, my definition of Asian American culture simply does not stand. The reason is this: my experience is atypical. Certainly, there are many first generation Asian Americans in this country who share similar sentiments and experiences as I do. At the same time, there are many more who could loosely define their Asian Americanism as something else. Therefore, Ryan argues, there needs to be a movement to push for a more cohesively agreed upon definition for Asian American culture – whether the contributions come from the private or public sector, arts, entertainment, politics, etc.

Certainly, I was fascinated by the entire idea of creating a culture of our own. Ryan utilized the example of black culture and how that contributed to the creation of hip hop, jazz, and ultimately, a connecting sense of unity among a particular ethnic line. Why then, is it not possible for us to follow in the footsteps of African Americans and create a culture that is our own? Again, Ryan covered all of his bases in this lecture. He discussed his generally-agreed upon reasons as to why there has been less of a unifying movement for Asian Americans: In a simple list, Asians are passive, have a tendency to work for personal gain, and quite frankly, are complacent with being labeled the model minority as long as there is enough financial compensation to support the material binge of many Asian families.

In a nut shell, though, I embody a lot of these characteristics. Therefore, it is fully possible that thus far in my life, my aspirations to become a corporate lawyer serves as a backlash to what Ryan has defined as impediments to the development of Asian culture. Certainly, there are points to which I agree with him wholeheartedly. Then again, he does not necessarily recognize perhaps the rationale behind Asian’s drive for a financially rewarding career. To say the least, many Asian Americans in this country, and particularly on the east coast, are among the first in their family to graduate from college. Therefore, it is in my firm belief that for many of these people, financial compensation is a means for them to define success – particularly if monetary issues have been significant factor in their youths. In my own life, I know that having to constantly worry about the financial situation of my parents while growing up in the suburbs, contributed to my strong desire to pursue financially rewarding careers – like that of a corporate lawyer.

Nevertheless, since I am not contributing to this fledging development of a core Asian American identity and culture, then I am certainly contributing to the contrary. At the same time, my mind possesses these vague notions of desiring to help others – to work in the public sector as a defense attorney or for other public interest-oriented jobs. It is my desire to create a greater sense of an Asian American identity. But I also have a mindset – molded by my poor childhood – to pursue the financially rewarding route. Regardless of my choice, I hope to be able to utilize my career as a means to promoting this identity development because I foresee the types of benefits that could potentially derive from such an identity: political awareness, inclusion into the political scene, and perhaps, finally, the incorporation of Asian Americans into the mainstream media where we would no longer be viewed as perpetual foreigners.

APALSA

The transition from what I have just written above to my sentiments of the APALSA conference is indeed an abrupt one. For one thing, I discussed the need to develop a unified Asian American voice to act as an entity to influence political decisions. However, my experience at the conference reflects a completely different feeling. Before I go any further, though, I feel the need to preface this section by saying that never in any setting, have I been more intimidated than by this event – where the caliber of attendees simply blew my mind. There I was – standing among the dominant future lawyers, judges, corporate CEO’s of the world – and I could not help but feel insignificant compared to them. Normally, I would not be as intimidated, but looking around and seeing only Asian faces certainly heightened that feeling. Granted many of these students probably do not have significantly more fascinating life stories as someone like me. At the same time, though, because I have gone through the law school admissions process, LSAT’s, recommendations, and personal statements, I understand first hand how difficult it is to achieve distinctly high results without putting in a lot of effort. Therefore, if anything, I was completely in awe of the people who possess the drive and intellect to reach such high levels of achievement.

Back to my original point now: Even though I was intimidated by the conference overall, I couldn’t help but think to myself that so many of the students present, myself included, simply had the monetary mindset in mind. Ryan’s speech essentially made me reevaluate my priorities and goals – if only slightly – because he was able to interject a dimension into the argument that I may not have considered. He made a point to indicate the propensity for Asians to get rich, and move off into the suburbs with a lot of other Caucasian people; thereby abandoning the Asian communities in which they were once a part. I must admit that I do share the same desires, which makes this realization all the more frightening. Once I do make the money, will I just abandon the communities that have contributed so significantly to who I am? Or will I utilize this money to garner influence in an attempt to effectuate change?

Certainly, this isn’t completely new and it wasn’t my only realization. During one of the panel sessions, the panelist eluded to the previous nights’ festivities, in which Congressman Mike Honda was the key note speaker. Honda allegedly asked the crowd of Harvard Law Students whether any of them were first generation college graduates. Surprisingly enough, none of them raised their hands – which brings up an interesting question with regard to the influences of socio-economic levels amongst Asians and how that affects the overall performance of the children of these off springs at gaining admission to the most elite institutions in the world. The discovery of this phenomenon somehow made me feel more proud of my accomplishments; as a son of poor, Vietnamese-Chinese immigrants, my siblings have managed to escape from the ghettos and acquire a good college education. At the same time, all of these achievements were accomplished without the significant aide from parents or family alike – which, according to my interpretations of the Mike Honda inquiry – seemingly dictates the rates in which these people are accepted into top institutions. Therefore, should I really be kicking myself that certain doors were not open to me at an early age? Should I be bothered by the fact that these people (HLS students) – who I strive to want to be – came from much more privileged backgrounds that I could ever fathom?

Nevertheless, I have to say that this conference was indeed an eye-opening experience. On the one hand, I want to be financially stable. On the other hand, stability promotes conformity, which is something that idealistically, I cannot stand for. As I progress in my legal career, these APA related issues are going to be popping up sporadically, and I will be forced to confront them. I just hope I will be prepared to meet the challenge.

RIP Brownie 7.7.1995-2.20.2007

It's difficult for me to write this post. For as long as I can remember, Brownie has been part of our family. My family first purchased him from a breeder in July 1995 - the summer between my sixth and seventh grade. Right off the bat, we knew he might be trouble because he crapped in our car even before he found his way into our home and hearts.

Throughout the years, we watched him grow from a tiny puppy into a tiny adult dog; he never cared too much for exercise, and often times found himself over weight and under appreciated. During that time, he never did learn to do any tricks, nor did he manage to find the newspaper under the table over 50% of the time. Translation: When we were in the old house, everyone in the family has - at least once or twice a month – have woken up in the middle of the night only to find that he had yet again, desecrated our tile floor.

Nevertheless, we always thought that he was a stupid dog - one whose inability to understand anything beyond his lengthy naps and his appetite for food - could only be attributed to a lack of intelligence. How wrong we were; Brownie was the type of dog who would only give you the time of day when he wanted something from you. For the most part, he only obeyed commands when it involved a treat on his end. Otherwise, he could have cared less what anyone was up to. As for the uncontrollable bowels - well, needless to say, if I could utilize the world as my toilet, so be it.

For the longest time, and even up until the present day, he was the most photographed member of our family. There was just something about his features - whether it was his pointy ears, short stout nose, dark lips, or nice long hair - he was always an attention grabber. Unfortunately, I did not use him to my advantage in terms of utilizing his good looks to meet more girls. Nevertheless, he did command a lot of attention, and in particular, from the many guests that frequented our house; guests who were inadvertently fooled by his puppy dog eyes into relinquishing what scraps they could part with. Even I could not withstand the gaze from his dark brown eyes, and even though I was well aware of his game, I could not resist the temptation of satisfying his appetite and appeasing the relentless pawing at my pants that he did so well.

His antics will not soon be forgotten. However, even larger than his antics, was his place in our family history for the last 11 plus years. We have taken him to the White Mountains when he was only a small puppy. I have carried him into Chinese school – walked him in parks all over, and even managed to take him to school once for a Spanish show and tell presentation. He has been present in nearly all of our birthday parties from the time when we were young children. Brownie has been subject to many ridiculous outfits that we have put on him – often times resulting in ridiculously adorable moments. Time and time again, we watched him hump towels and sleeping bags and whatever else he could find. In a sense, he was a dog with character – a member of the family whom we may have not agreed with at every critical moment – but have certainly come to accept as our own.

In retrospect, I may not have been the best owner. As the years progressed and more activities seemingly filled my schedule, I began to spend less time at home and with Brownie. Even my ritualistic rubbing of his head every time I left the house became a distant memory as college came and went, and the crushing weight of work befell my life. I don’t recall exactly when he began to display his age – it must have started with that bald spot developing in the back of his neck – followed by an incessant wheezing that may have caused him slight discomfort. Regardless of the fact, he remained adamant about his pursuits in life: napping and trying like hell to get that food off the table. It still worked even after all these years.

Last night, though, I noticed something very peculiar with his mannerisms. Normally, his presence could be felt under the table as he weaves around the many legs nightly in order to get his food. However, during dinner time, he was sleeping – noticeably unbothered by the fact that he was passing up yet another golden opportunity to retrieve some sumptuous treat. This morning, he sat there next to his dish with a slightly lower posture as I was preparing for work. Deep down, I knew that he was sick and ready to depart this earth, but I refused to acknowledge the fact. I caressed the top of his head and left ear one last time, just like I used to before I left the house, even though it would be the last time I would do so while he was alive. Only when I received a phone call from my sister later on that afternoon, did I realize the significance of each little encounter I may remember with Brownie.

My family has never been one to express emotions. But each of us, in our own little way, said our own goodbyes to Brownie; and I can be certain that each of us shed a tear or more in the process. Even though his body remains frozen in time – waiting for nature to take her course – his memories continue and his spirit divine. I can only hope that he has found a little bit of peace. It was nice knowing you, pal, and you’ve managed to make better people out of all of us – if only for a little.

Delta Airlines

Delta Sucks.

It has been two days since I was stranded at Logan International
Airport for over ten hours and I have finally come to terms with my
situation. For the past two months, I have been looking forward to
attending my good friend's wedding in Houston, only for me to find out
at 6AM at the airport that my Delta flight 5677 was cancelled as a
result of 'inclement weather'.

Initially, I was surprisingly okay with the situation. But the events throughout the day has contributed to my severe disdain for the airline industry - and in
particular, Delta. Having discovered this unfortunate cancellation, I
was forced to wait in line for approximately 1h 45m before arriving at
the ticket counter. The reason for this lengthy delay was partly due to
the weather, and partly the result of school vacation week in which
thousands of families with young teenage children were travelling the
globe to warmer destinations such as Mexico or Orlando, FL. From my
experiences on Friday, I have come to realize that there is nothing
moreexcruciating than being stuck in an airport line behind a few
over-privileged teenage children who were on their way to some exotic
destination. It wasn't so much their youth status as it was the topics
of conversation - from how hot Leo DiCaprio was in Romeo and Juliet to
their endless list of things to do with regard to their school work.
Teenage verbal mannerisms also take a significant toll on my tolerance
level - as their pitch and tone and emphasis on every last word of
every sentence seemingly drove me up a wall. Needless to say, the line
itself was a test of my infinite patience.

Upon arrival, I was greeted by a friendly staff member who only told me what I had already knew - that my flight was cancelled and they could not get me on
another flight because snotty brats had occupied all the remaining
seats...and then some. Knowing full well that I still wanted to make it
to Houston, I opted for the standby option with some flights connecting
to Cincinnati. Unfortunately, there was no guarantee that I was going
to get a seat on an airplane. And even if I were to make it to
Cincinnati on Friday through some kind of divine intervention, I would
have to spend the night in this decrepit mid western city before being
able to fly out the next morning. Keep in mind though, that by electing
for this option, I had to forfeit my check in luggage because I would not
have been allowed into the secure terminals with my large luggage.
Therefore, while I wasputzing around Logan International Airport, my luggage was on the stand by flight that I was supposed to be on.

After a monumental failure in trying to get onto the 930 flight to Cincinnati
via standby, I opted to phone my friend who works in the airline
industry. He enlightened me to the fact that Delta in fact has two hubs
(which the original staff member neglected to inform me) and that I
should try to make it to the Atlanta hub en route to Houston. Again, in
order for me to exercise this option, I had to jump back into the line,
which by now actually started where the line barrier began. 25 minutes
later, I arrived at the ticket counter with a newly proposed idea of
going through Atlanta. The lady informed me that if I were able to get
on any flight to Atlanta, she would have me confirmed from the last
flight from Atlanta to Houston for that Friday. I agreed to take my
chances with the four standby Atlanta flights.

At this point,I had not realized the severity of the situation: It turns out that ice storms utterly paralyze entire airports for days at a time and for this
particular storm, it was no different. Passengers had been stranded at
the airport since Wednesday - trying to get home to their families,
jobs, school vacations, etc...- so my particular situation did not
warrant any sort of special treatment. Like the idealistic fool that I
am, though, I chose to wait for the standby flights to Atlanta. Six
hours, dozens ofphonecalls to friends complaining about my situation,
and 12 dollars spent on crappy airport food later, I finally realized
the futility in my efforts. After spending a better part of the day
with the same passengers who were trying to capture the same flight, I
bid them a hardy goodbye, and left to see if I could retrieve a refund
for my misery.

It is now 3:30 and I just left the secure area
and back into the original check out area. It turns out that the line
did not abate this whole time, and I was looking at another possible
45-1 hour wait just to get back in line to speak to a representative.
To add insult to injury, there was even a line to use the phones to
speak to a representative. After waiting for approximately 12 minutes
for a phone to open up, I decided that my time may be best spent trying
to find my luggage that was probably already in Houston. This part was
relatively painless as I went through the usual motions of submitting a
claim to retrieve lost luggage. Thankfully, Delta employees in this
particular office were extremely amiable. They even managed to tell me
that I was number 37 on the standby list...for six seats. Thank
goodness I did not wait.

My best friend who happened to be dropping his mother at the airport, ultimately picked me up at about 4:15 in the afternoon - 10 hours since I was incipiently dropped off at the airport myself...what a pointless day spent hanging out in terminal A of Logan International Airport.

Since I have had two days to try and rationalize my Friday, I'm going to try and recap the ways in which Delta completely screwed me. First of all, I had to take the day off to fly to Houston to attend my friend's wedding - and day off
equals lost wages. Secondly, I booked my ticket throughOrbitz.com, and of course, I received zero notification that my flight was going to be cancelled even though I signed up for the Orbitz alert which should have promptly called my cell phone to report any kind of irregular airline operations. I received no such call in the
morning, but I did receive subsequent calls regarding my other flights
on the trip, which indicates that Delta cancelled its flight very early
in the morning -if not immediately prior to when passengers were
scheduled to arrive. They have had two and a half days to handle the
ice situation. Therefore, weather should not have played such a
significant factor.

Moreover, it stands as Delta's policy to immediately place someone on the next available flight should their flight be cancelled. Because of the storm situation and school vacation week, the next available flight to Houston -as told by the staff - was Sunday. Perhaps it was a little too early in the morning for me to
truly grasp the audacity of this statement - but that information was
tantamount to rubbing salt on an open wound. Nevertheless, I never made
it to my destination because I was subsequently placed on standby
flights that personnel knew full well that I had no chance of getting
on (refer back to my previous statements regarding the severity in the
flight situation for this President's Day weekend) - resulting in ten
useless hours at the airport.

Mind you, I was only offered a refund for my ticket after this entire ordeal - a refund that I had to obtain through contacting theOrbitz .com representative because Delta service lines were busy the entire weekend. One might question the
sincerity of Delta's front office to attempt to appease disgruntled
customers after terrible experiences with the airline.

Perhaps this could be the result of price discrimination - if I were a platinum
meber, would I have been treated differently instead of being cast
aside? After this entire experience, should I really feel bad for Delta
Airlines for their continued operations utilizing such poor standards
in customer service? It should be obvious that from now on, the only
time I will ever fly Delta, is if they were to issue me a free ticket
somewhere. In fact, that is the least they could do to compensate me
for the worst airline experience of my life. Perhaps if they do not
understand the significance of trying to regain the trust of one
particular customer, then how can they be entrusted to provide quality
customer service for any of their customers?

Legal motivation

For as long as I can remember after college graduation, I have been immersed in this dreary world of law school preparation and the application process. I can still remember the many hours I spent reading outside on the Boston Common in an attempt to familiarize myself with the LSAT's, the god-awful LSAT course that I took for one month in September 2005, and the countless hours I spent at home taking practice test over practice test until my mind just gave out on me.

Even as I tried to score perfectly on this exam, I still managed to fall WELL short of my goal. Nevertheless, I put that notion behind me and instead, decided to concentrate on the 'soft' portions of my application - personal statement, letters of recommendation, work experience, volunteer experience, and generally anything that I thought would help me gain an edge in the law school admissions process.

It has been nearly two years since I graduated college, and this whole ordeal is sooner or later coming to an imminent end. I have been so focused on getting into a decent law school, that I have seemingly placed my life on hold. In particular, when I was writing my personal statement, I felt completely detached from the world. Never have I spent so much time focused on writing a two page essay that was only supposed to convey what I am supposed to know best - my life. With all events in one's life that influences the important decisions that ultimately leads one to their current life, how do you exactly pin point the tiny aspect that you think an admissions officer would care to read?

I happened to choose the two weeks that I spent in Vietnam as a focal point in my personal statement and how that experience essentially allowed me to reevaluate the life that I have come to live up until that point. The theme mainly revolved around overcoming obstacles, and realizing that in the end, my family and its background is ultimately one that should serve as an underlying motivation to succeed in what I do - because many of them may not be presented the same opportunities as I have.

Nevertheless, that essay took me roughly three months to write, re-write, rip apart, re-write, and edit again until I managed to find what I thought was perfection. As a result of the editing process, there were probably 15 more people than I would have preferred who now know about my family history. Of course, I had to complete this ordeal all while trying to balance work, a social life, and the seemingly relentless pursuit of letters of recommendation from the people who held the fate of graduate school admissions in their hands.

When I finally attached the letters to the LSAC website and sent them off to my respective schools, I probably felt the same kind of relief that most aspiring law school applicants felt when they accomplished the same feat - except I didn't. Sure, it was a fantastic load off my shoulders; but the fact of the matter was that the exhileration did not warrant the same kind of relief as my original college application process. Perhaps I can chalk that up to experience. But then again, this feeling may just be a signifier that I am in fact not that excited about law school. But, one may ask, why would I go through all this trouble of applying to law school only to not be excited about going? Wouldn't that constitute a complete waste of time?

Well, since this entry's focal point does not revolve around the logistics of the application process (more to come on that), I can discuss my sentiments with regard to why I am not excited about the prospect of attending law school. For one thing, I have been a walking shell of myself for the past year. Before graduation, I was an idealistic young man who aspired to do such great things - travel the world, undertake a job of great importance, meet a bunch of people, etc...

But the fact of the matter is that I have been stuck in a job that is literally sucking the life out of me. I may have overstayed my tenure at this job by about 8 months - but of course, during most of that time, I was engulfed in my law school application process. Therefore, quitting during that time would be tantamount to being poor, un-motivated, and quite frankly, completely outside of my character. Nevertheless, I have come to loathe my job - not necessarily because of the people that I work with (for the most part, they are a great group of people) - but because I came to learn that I want to have essentially nothing to do with the work that I am doing now.

As I have been told so many times, there are just such greater problems out in the world that grossly eclipses the types of problems that I run into as a paralegal at an IP law firm - having the printer jam every five pages is not what I spent four years in college for. As a result of these daily nuiances, I have become much more cynical to the professional world and that, in turn, as adversely affected my ability to communicate with people - basically the experience has shorted my patience, thereby relegating me to this mean, boring person.

I never thought the day would amount to what I am feeling now. At the same time, because I am so close to my law school goal, I try not to let this radiating negativity bother me as much. Instead, it is hard for me to get excited for the prospect of law school because so far, my overwhelming desire to pursue law school is simply so that I can evade my job. This sentiment should not be the driving desire for me to go to law school - and it is certainly not. But at this point in my life, it appears to be the case.

Give me a couple of months to wind down on this law school application process. Only then will I finally be able to travel and perhaps, for the first time, truly be able to clear my head and focus on the road ahead. In the meantime, I have to suck it up.