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About Rob Pollak

I plan to get famous via the internet.

Things that are making me irrationally mad right now

True story, all of this stuff is driving me insane:

– Right this second I’m sitting in Barnes and Noble.  My head just exploded from rage.  But please don’t pity me.  Nothing severe happened.  It’s just that the internet, which is the only reason I am sitting here eating a quiche filled with shit cheese and shit corn and shit broccoli, stopped working.  Well, not stopped.  But just stalls every time I try to watch this video on youtube:

I haven’t watched it yet, but I bet you’ll enjoy it.  Everyone else who has access to Reddit has certainly enjoyed it today.  But not me.  I’m just sitting here, tapping away on my keyboard, wondering if this post will ever make it to the internet, and scorching the roof of my mouth with scalding ricotta.  Yes, Barnes and Noble, this cold, wet, gnarly day seems like a fabulous time to replace your toaster.  I’m sure everyone wants cake for lunch.

– Since you’ll never read this (because of the shoddy internet), I’ll mention some other things that make me irrationally mad.  Like my blog reader Lisa Zollner, who reads my blog for a week and then kindly “suggests” that I use “since” when I really mean “because.”  Listen, jerk.  I would never make rookie mistakes like that.  That’s one of those things that’s always made me irrationally mad as well. But since you’re here, why don’t you go eff yourself?

– Wow.  I don’t know what’s in this quiche, but at this moment, I’m guessing a combination of bourbon and lactose.  Two of the things that appear friendly at first, but sneak up on me and send me into a surprise of rage.

– People who watch standard definition channels when the same show also airs in high definition and claim not to notice the difference.  Like when I wake up in the middle of the night and imagine that I can see the clock without my glasses.  We all know it’s better in high definition, figure out the channel, even if it’s 3:IG in the morning.  Most cable providers have a formula for figuring it out.  On my TV, the HD channels are all exactly 500 higher than the standard definition counterparts.  Example NBC SD is channel 4.  NBC HD is channel 504.  (504-4=500).  HBO SD is 300, HBO HD is 800 (800-300=500).  Uncanny!

HD-SD

– Blowdryers.  By far the loudest of all household appliances, and conveniently the one most likely to be used when a spouse remains asleep.  Maybe I’m extra sensitive because Anne and I live in a smallish apartment, and I am lucky enough to be married to a woman who never leaves the house without perfectly coiffed hair, a beautiful smile, 2-5 inch heels, perfect make up, a calm glowing demeanor, a joke or two to lighten the mood, a hundred interesting topics to discuss, and a reminder that I’m amazing.  But god damnit when she’s blow drying her hair and I’m trying to sleep, I want nothing more than to rip the cord right out of the wall, slam the hair dryer down onto the ground, jump on it until it shatters, sweep the shattered pieces up into a pile, burn the pile, put the ashes into a bag, and shove the bag right up… In other words, I wish there were a blow dryer that didn’t make so much noise.

Blow dryer

– Those people who drive either 1-5 miles slower than I’d like to be travelling when they’re in front of me?  Or the ones who drive 1-5 miles faster than I’d like to be travelling when they pull up behind me.  This is my left lane, you dick.  I learned this in defensive driver training.

driving

– That drawing.  Just look at it.  It’s so bad and stupid and dumb and lame.  Who drives like that?  What’s an asshdi?  Why is the exit sign falling over into the road?  Would those tires even work?  Why is my arm the length of an entire car?  Why don’t the other people have eyes or ears or arms or faces or steering wheels or airbags?  How do they even get into the car since they don’t have doors?  Don’t you mean “because,” you idiot?

 

– The day I decided it would be okay to use my gmail account to sign up for things.  Because it’s not like the reason that I switched to gmail was all the spam I was receiving.  And I promised that I would never let it get that way with gmail.  Now I wake up and have 45 emails every morning.  Like I need a daily report about golf tee times in the middle of the winter?  I clicked unsubscribe on one of them and it made it worse.  Remind me not to do that when I get my google glasses.

– Google glasses.  I’m not ready for this.  Also, they seem douchey.

Okay glass, post this to the internet.

– Well this is awkward.  Apparently Barnes and Noble had lost power because of the massive rainstorm outside.  That’s why the toaster wasn’t working and I had to eat quiche. It’s also why the Internet was slow.  It’s also why they fixed it right at this second, which happens to be one minute before I have to leave to go to my appointment.

– I didn’t proofread this.  I hope that’s on your list of things that make you irrationally mad.

How do you know when to leave BigLaw?

It might be time to leave BigLaw if….

…although it’s 8 degrees outside, you stopped wearing a coat so you can pretend you’re heading down to the cafeteria when you’re actually going home for the night.

…you wear the same pants every day for a month, but it goes unnoticed because all your friends are sitting in their own offices with the doors closed.

…you’re the person on the elevator who says, “What is this, the local?”

How to know when to leave biglaw - a cartoon by Rob Pollak

…you’re jealous of people with two computer monitors because they can review documents and watch Hulu at the same time.

…rather than explain a mistake to a junior attorney, you redo the work yourself and never work with or speak to that attorney again.

…you have a speakerphone conversation with the person in the office next to you and can hear the echo of your own voice.

…the best part of your week is the free attorney lunch.  Yup, the one that gives you diarrhea.
When to quit big law - a cartoon by rob pollak
…you reprint a 100-page document because you added one comma to the first page.  Then you decide the comma’s unnecessary  so you call a legal assistant to change it for you.
…you invent an emergency project for yourself to avoid the summer associate event because you hate mingling with other humans.
…you finally realize that your bonus is arbitrarily determined by the financial performance of another law firm.
The economics of a law firm bonus - a cartoon by Rob Pollak

Things I Can’t Complain About

You came for the complaints, but hopefully you’ll stay for the other stuff too.  Here are some things I’m not complaining at all about right now:

Podcast alert:

The NY Post-Cast.  My cousin Mark just happens to be a big shot NY Post sports reporter.  He and Mike Vaccaro started a sports-themed podcast a couple of weeks ago.  If you’re into sports or entertainment generally, check it out.  That’s an interview with Jeff Van Gundy.  Here’s one with filmmaker Ed Burns.  Mark said if enough people read my blog, I can be a guest.  Fine, he didn’t say that.  But hint hint.

Image

Look before you speak

Saying “Look” before I say something I want you to really notice.   Look, the president does it, we all know that.  But can saying “look” work for you?  Look, if it works for fantasy sports reporters (can you believe that’s a thing?) then maybe we should all take a look inside and see if we can do this too.

Signing emails.
My quest for a great email sign off continues.  Here are the options I’ve dismissed:
“Thanks” – As in a preemptive thanks for ignoring my email, asshole.
“Cheers” – The fastest way to let others know that you studied abroad in London for a semester in college, a semester which turned you into a douche.
“Best” – worst.
“Sincerely” – What am I, a letter from 1822?
“Regards” – Gaining in popularity, but lacking in meaning or depth or sensicalness.
“Love” – rarely appropriate for business setting.
“Best regards” – see, “best.”  See also, “regards.”
“With warm regards” – Look, never email me again, ok?
Hit me up” – Not gonna lie, I still sort of like this one.
“Yours” – Too sultry.  Only works for Jason Mraz.
“Suck it” – Works well in moderation.

The New Rules for Blondes – A book.
My friend Selena wrote a book.  She’s sometimes funny.  Like in this preview:  (Books apparently have previews now.  It’s a thing.)

You can read more about it on her website or follow her on twitter where she favorites some of my tweets but never retweets them.

Diagrams and Charts
It seems I’m not the only one who can find a way to use a chart to hilarious results.  Here are two that I’ve liked recently:

http://andreabadgley.com/2013/02/19/lost-balls/
(funny if you find balls and farts funny.  Not funny if you don’t, but you should still see how she fits you into her venn diagram)

http://longliveirony.com/
(just a funny site in general, for more of her drawing and chart stuff, she has a tumblr)

Summaries and Concluding Remarks

Finally and in conclusion, I have recently decided to be more formal with my summarizing of blog posts.  As I have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt, there is other stuff you should be reading on the Internet.  I hope that you will return to my site after you venture away from it and that you don’t hate everything I’ve shared.  I apologize in advance for anything you hate.

Suck it,
Rob

35 Life Lessons I Learned before Turning 35

Life Lessons by Rob Pollak

1. There’s no cure for a hangover, but good Lo Mein comes damn close.

A drawing by Rob Pollak - How to cure a hangover:  Lo Mein

2. There are three things that are always worth the money: International travel, excellent food, and Blu Rays.

3. When you make a list of thirty-five things, don’t number the items until you’ve finished the whole list. That way, when you’re editing your list and realize number three is stupid, you don’t have to make up some ridiculous lesson to avoid renumbering the whole thing.

4. No matter how much your parents annoy you, piss you off, yell at you, or tell you that you need to wait before hitting your driver (even though the group in front of you is 400 yards away), they do it because they love you and want the best for you. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, but it’s true. Take a step back to see things from their perspective. It may help you appreciate why they do all that annoying shit.

5. When you get good service, tip more than expected. The few extra dollars won’t kill you and will mean a lot to the person who provided the excellent service.

6. Stop being scared. If there’s something you want to do but aren’t doing because you’re scared, suck it up and do it. The only things in life to truly fear are (a) stepping in dog shit, and (b) asking the one question that makes a public speaker take back the claim that “there’s no such thing as a dumb question.”

7. When you find a blog you like (like this one) go out of your way to tell the person (genius) that writes it (me) how great (best thing in the entire world) it is. Share the content with your closest friends (the whole world). You may think you’re being stalkerish (you probably are) by reading something that you think isn’t aimed at you (it probably wasn’t). But if someone took the time to create something and put it on the web, it’s because that person is an attention whore (and he will be happy to hear from you regardless of his initial intent). And attention whores crave lots of attention (from anyone). To be helpful, I drafted a template for you in case you decide to follow my advice:

Dear [ROB],
I know we last spoke at Hebrew camp in 1991, but I have been enjoying your blog since we reconnected when you spammed my facebook page. I especially liked your post about when lawyers can go home. You have an excellent command of logic and the handwriting of an armless nine-year-old blind child. I wish there were more people like you in the world. You also look trimmer than you did when you were 13. Well done! How did you manage to trick a beautiful intelligent woman into marrying you? I never would have expected that from you. I remember a time when you refused to play on the skins team in a shirts vs skins basketball game. Boy were you fat. I wish you well in the future. Here’s a few dollars. Buy yourself something nice. I learned about the importance of tipping from your blog.
Love,
[Mom]

8. Don’t believe anything the Mayans say. They keep predicting the end of the world, but they never get it right. I wish they would just go away already.

9. Anything that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler do together is funny. Women are funny. Deal with it old men. Here’s my favorite:

10. Three things that are never worth it: (a) Holding grudges, (b) extended warranties, and (c) super-sizing your meal.

11. Nothing good ever comes from drinking a beverage with an ä in its name.

A drawing by Rob Pollak

12. Don’t be scared to request the vacation time you’re entitled to at work. Other people will tell you the “right way to go about vacation time.” Those people are assholes. If you’re in a job that doesn’t let you go on vacation, that job is stupid and you’ll burn yourself out. Vacation refreshes you to go back and do a good job. At least for the first 3-4 hours after it ends. Then you need another vacation on the books so you have something to look forward to.

13. Coleslaw is disgusting. Mistrust anyone who likes it. Unless it’s vinegar-based and atop a pulled pork sandwich. Then it’s majestic.

14. Be wary of anyone who likes some combination of the following teams: Lakers, Cowboys, Yankees, and Notre Dame.

15. Stop hating the foods you’ve hated since you were a kid. You might surprise yourself and find out that brussel sprouts are really good now. Most restaurants put bacon in them.

16. After two weeks of pure torture, exercise becomes amazing. If you don’t exercise now, commit for two weeks. Suck it up. Force yourself to do it. Whatever it takes. If at the end of two weeks, you don’t feel the pull to keep it up, then you can stop. But after one day of stopping, at least try to force yourself to do another two weeks. Keep repeating this until you realize how amazing you feel. If you don’t feel amazing after three tries, then stop eating all that fast food, idiot.

17. If you want to be a news anchor, realize that you have to spend years and years reporting from the coastline during natural disasters. Ask yourself: is it worth it?

18. Never set out to make a list of 35 things without thinking it through first. Thirty five is a lot. Even more than you think. By the time you get half way, you’ll probably regret your decision.

19. Have you ever seen a piece of fruit the color of a Maraschino cherry? That’s why you shouldn’t eat them.

20. Have you ever eaten a Maraschino cherry? They’re amazing. Sometimes just trust your instincts even though you know the consequences.

The Maraschino Cherry - Life Lessons by Rob Pollak

21. The Cosby Show holds up better than Seinfeld.

22. Proofread everything on more time than you think you have too.

23. If you do anything because you want other people to think you’re cool, stop doing that thing. That makes you a poser. Do things because you like to do them. That makes you interesting and awesome.

24. Trust your own taste in music, movies, and beer. Even though people will make fun of you for liking 4 non blondes, you still know What’s Up.

25. Resist the urge to Google the answer to every question. Yes, there is an objective answer to the question on Google, but sometimes it’s more fun to just see how it plays out. I know this because I always Google, and everyone hates me.

26. Say “yes” to pretty much any request, especially when it’s something easy like seeing a movie, attending a wedding, or supporting a friend. Your friends will appreciate you, your life experience will increase, and your comfort zone will continue to expand.

27. Make a prank call at least once a year.

A drawing by Rob Pollak

27a.  If you are the recipient of a prank call, laugh it off. No one likes the guy who thinks he’s above a little humor:

28. If a particular food gives you diarrhea, don’t ever eat that food again. No matter how good it tastes (the food, not the diarrhea).

29. Always give directions to those who ask or who look like they might need directions. If you have a few extra minutes, walk them to the destination and pretend you’re a college tour guide.

30. Try meditation. I thought it was stupid for the longest time. It can do amazing things if you give it a chance. If you think it’s stupid, you probably don’t know what it is. It can have nothing to do with religion or spirituality if that’s what you’re scared of.

31. People older than you don’t have it all figured out. They may speak with authority, but they mostly make it up just like you do. Most of them are full of shit. That said, listen to their advice. There’s a lot of wisdom in that shit.

32. The following things are fake: (a) emails from Nigerian princes, (b) the four hour work week, (c) Lance Armstrong, and (d) those funny autocorrects you read about on the internet.

A drawing by Rob Pollak

33. Ignore the instructions on everything except crazy glue, hot sauce, and power tools.

34. If you can run three miles, you can run six miles. You may not think you can, and it may be painful and miserable, but you can 100 percent do it.

35. No matter how wise it seems, don’t trust any advice you get from the Internet.

(Note – This also appears on Elephant Journal.  If you made it all the way down here, you might as well click this link and then follow me on Facebook!)

The top 10 times my dad got mad at me: Number 10 – The Watermelon

In honor of Valentine’s Day, and in celebration of true love, I thought today would be a good day to share a few stories. Reader Ryan Driscoll asked, “Rob: When did your dad get the most mad at you?”

Great question, Ryan! Thankfully my dad never got as mad at me as he was at you when you stole a Chicken McNugget from my little sister. But there were certainly times when I did things to bring the ire of my father (aka the Gentle Giant).

(I don’t want to gloss over details, so I think these will work best as a top ten list over ten posts. Or this will be the only one I ever do. Who knows?)

10) The Watermelon

Each time my mom opened the stove to check on her honey mustard chicken, I watched the waves of heat ripple through the air and land on my ten-year old brow.

“It’s like a sauna in here,” I said, not having any idea what a sauna was.

My mom laughed. Nailed it. But things took a turn for the serious when she changed course. “Can you set the table, Sweetie?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said. But only because setting the table was my only responsibility in the world.

I opened the drawer to grab the utensils, but it was empty, so “setting the table” became “empty the dishwasher and set the table.” What bullshit. I thought through my options. I could try to trick my sister into emptying the dishwasher.

As if she was watching the inside of my brain, my mom moved first.
“Laura? Laura? Can you come down here and help with the chicken?” Before I could react, Laura was standing next to me, basting the chicken. I didn’t know the word “smug” at that time, but if I had, I probably would have said, “why don’t you wipe that smug smile off your face, you little bitch.”

I opened the dishwasher and, with the surgical precision that I learned from playing Operation, extracted exactly five plates, five knives, five forks, and five glasses.

“Robert,” my mom said, somehow stretching my first name into seven syllables.

“What?”

“You know.”

Before I could fight back, I heard the front door fling open. My dad stood there momentarily. He looked scary in his cutoff jean shorts and nothing else. Sweat raced down his face as he slammed the door shut and moved to his runner’s stretch. Of all the days for the air conditioning to conk out, this day was probably the worst.

Without a word, my mom somehow alerted him about my attempts to shirk my responsibility and manipulate my sister. He caught my eye and I knew I was done for. I grabbed the rest of the knives out of the dishwasher to try to regain some credibility.

“Where the fuck’s the air conditioner guy?” he said. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Hi dad, I missed you today.” I took a shot.

“Hey Bruiser.” He called me that during baseball games. I was in the clear.

“You want to help me set the table?”

He patted me on the head and caught eyes with my mom.

“I’m going to shower,” he said again.

He grabbed a paper towel from the table to wipe the sweat from his face and stomach. Instantly, it reappeared. He wiped again, then reached for one of the knives that I had laid out in my piles of five. He inspected it, scrutinizing each speck of water that the dishwasher left behind.

He pointed the tip of the knife towards my face and said, “I gotta shower. Just set the table.”

So I did. A few minutes later, we were sitting in silence eating the hot chicken in our hot kitchen as the stove radiated hot heat across our hot house.

“It’s like a sauna in here,” I said again. But this time, no one laughed.

My mom didn’t laugh because she was realizing I inherited my dad’s ability to run any joke in the ground. My dad didn’t laugh because he only laughed at jokes on the Honeymooners. My older sister didn’t laugh because she was 13 and hated everyone in the family. My little sister didn’t laugh because she didn’t understand jokes.

We finished eating. I refused to clear the table because I had set it. Rules are rules. I leaned back in my chair and watched my sisters do the dirty work.

As they cleared, my mom looked my way and asked, “Robert, can you get the watermelon out of the fridge?”

“Fine,” I said. Apparently I had earned nothing by setting the table. I took 30 seconds to march the 8 steps from the dining room table to the refrigerator. My insolence was rewarded with a blast of cold air from the fridge.

A lone yellow tupperware container sat on the top shelf, covered only by an ill-fitting sheath of plastic. The plastic cover made the hundreds of equally sized cubes of watermelon visible to the whole family. Each cube promising a brief reprieve from the hot.

I walked back towards the table. With each step, the watermelon juice sloshed back and forth in the tupperware. It reminded me of melted Jolly Ranchers. I could feel it sticking to my fingers through the plastic.

My dad said, “hurry up.”

So I started to scurry. But my mind was focused on imaging how many watermelon squares I could fit into my mouth at one time.

“You’re so annoying,” Lindsey said.

Laura smiled at me. That stupid smug smile.

“Come on, Robert.” My dad repeated.

I looked up to shut him up, but as I did, I caught my foot on the tile of the kitchen floor. The tupperware leapt from my hands and floated delicately towards the floor. It landed precisely on the flat bottom part, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

But a second later, the tupperware bounced back into the air and flipped itself upside down. Watermelon juice rushed onto the floor and filled the tiny crevices between the tile. Watermelon pits cracked off the ground, and then binded with the juice to become irremovable from the floor. Those perfect cubes splattered onto the ground and spread from room to room.

My dad exploded. “Oh great, Robert! Bring on the ants! Why didn’t you just call a parade of ants? You could be the grand marshal! Wouldn’t that be nice? If you could be the grand marshal of an ant parade?”

I froze.

“Get some paper towel already! Start cleaning it up already.”

But I couldn’t move.

I just stood there and watched as he got up out of his chair and did it himself. Glaring at me the whole time.

I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted some watermelon.