The Dirt Field

I will don a hard hat and join the boys in building this fucking overpass in my free time if it means that there will be less traffic on route 28.

According to Allure magazine, 11% of women say their top New Year's resolution is to stop being such a bitch. Rest assured, I'm not I'm even going to try.In other news, I learned last night from Liz's dad that my beloved Rufus Wainwright had not one, but two songs on the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack. Appropriate, I suppose, that my flamingly homosexual superhero should star on a soundtrack from a movie about closeted cowboys. The closing song is gorgeous, and Rufus has such a lilting, perfect voice that I can forgive him for repeating the line "get along little doggie" over and over. After all, this is the same man that coined the sweet phrase, "Let's fuck this awful art party."

I think I like my new job. My boss, Mr. H., seems quite nice and relaxed. Granted, I do hear him screaming, "That's BULLSHIT! That guy is a DICK!" and other sundry pleasantries when he is on the phone, but who am I to criticize? The office is located on the fourth floor of a building that is situated behind the car dealerships off of route 7 in Tysons Corner. I spend a good deal of time staring out the window. Here is my office:As you can see, is a rather small firm. It is just Mr. H. and I here in Tysons, and Mr. R. in an equally small office in Maryland. They mainly do corporate, civil, employment, and other white collar law, with about 20-25 big cases open at a time. I am a legal assistant, which means that I do every single thing that Mr. H. does ...continue reading.