In Which Our Heroine Responds to her Fans
I'm feeling terribly praised of late. First, my friend Rita told me that my blog titles always remind her that she is the heroine of her own life and that she finds that inspiring. Since Rita is one of the cooler people I know, I found that very nice. And I'm getting lots of other compliments as well, but none so much as this first draft of a recommendation for a job, which was sent to me for my review. You know, to get the tone right, make sure it hits the points of what the job description says they're looking for. I figured a Professor at MIT would be a good credit. At least he was honest:

"Anne Wolfe has asked me to write to you on her behalf, and I do so with an
unusually strong sense of purpose. I can see why a glance at her CV might
leave you highly impressed -- impeccable academic credentials (on both
sides of the Atlantic), long dedication to athletics: she would, it seems,
have much to offer. When you meet her, you will realize how physically
imposing she is, as well.
But what all this leaves hidden is the fact that she is (and even by the
standards of the legal profession), she is an unusually, perhaps even
uniquely amoral being. It is safe to say that she has not one whit of
ethical standards. But she does have a fine, lucid prose style, at least."

If that doesn't get me the legal shark job of my dreams, well, nothing ever will. Everyone wants to hire an attorney with a fine, lucid prose style.

This recommendation is sitting there in my in-box of e-mail with two other great quotes of the day. The first, from my ever dear friend Neil that "While all political careers end in failure, all lives wind up in suburbia." The other is a direction, regarding the rubber duckies, but really just good life directions as well that I should "Look where seaweed, driftwood and all things afloat piles up along the shore. Then root around in the piles with a stick." Now that is a career plan and a half.

Speaking of duckies, I noticed as I strolled through the Boston Gardens this evening that there are some quite new (a few days old) ducklings in the pond. It seems terribly late in the season, but with their Mrs. Mallard were indeed a Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack and Nack. Another Mrs. Mallard (they are related you see) had a Pack with her, who seemed to be about three weeks old. I think the bad weather this spring led to late clutches. I think I am also spending far too high a percentage of my brain power on ducks these past few months.

Even scarier, my friend Joe (known to all in the Royal Navy as "Neil" or just plain "Grandad" is now a career advertisement for joining up: You can see it here.. He claims the photo was taken after a tough night of liberating a pub in West Devon. Join the Royal Navy! Learn Signaling and Radar! And you too......can be a fireman.

Speaking of career plans, I have a presentation to give tomorrow and I want to review it. If you know anything about trade secrets, e-mail me!
Love,
Anne