Today I saw my first rat.
Well, my first live New Orleans rat. Of course I've seen many rats before, and some dead ones in streets in Upper Ninth Ward. But this evening, driving back over to the old place in search of shower, there it was scurrying across the street right in front of me, and I thought of this article in today's Times-Picayune about the really bad post-Katrina infestations of rats, snakes, cockroaches, ants, etc. I particularly like the woman calling in about a hundred raccoons stalking the streets together. It's like Westside Story, but with fur. I laugh, but I do know that raccoons are nasty beasts and I don't care how cute they are.
I like the Times-Picayune, and I don't care what anybody else says. I mostly like it for the reason Chris Rose mentions in One Dead in the Attic in a column he wrote about 10 weeks after Katrina. People talking about anything except Katrina was just blah blah blah and his brain tuned it out. That's how I've felt ever since April. If it's not about New Orleans, I don't much care, sorry. Or Africa. I still listen to BBC Africa regularly - but rarely NPR. They just waste so much time talking about places that aren't New Orleans or West Africa. What's with that?
I am liking this place more and more, Jenny and Ahmed were right. And I am just totally in love with my kitchen island. It weighs a ton, but it's so worth it! It's kind of like this - same exact dimensions - but no towel-bar on front (pegs on the side - perfect for my canvas bags), and the second shelf is a strange bottle-rack but I'll just use it as a regular shelf. And it has drawers - which is awesome, because I realized after the seller said something - there are no drawers in my kitchen at all! So, my cutlery now has a home. And I know the basket fits because she demonstrated.
Now I just need to find a way to clean the couch -- these two moves haven't been easy on it. Or my back. Thank god for Ahmed today - he basically carried most of the stuff by himself - it wasn't a strong day for me. And why do I have so many books anyway?
Saturday, September 30, 2006
will work for shower
It was a hot and sweaty day with moving, so after I unpacked as necessary, a shower sounded really good.
Trickle. Not even enough pressure to make it up to the shower head. Not even enough to fill a bucket in an hour.
"Hi Robin. Sorry to call you at this time, but there's no water in the shower."
I like my landruler. She was really nice, and made it our problem rather than grimy me alone. She's trying to find a plumber to come tomorrow. That may be a real challenge, I fear, or even getting a plumber at any time soon. There is the benefit that this landruler is far nicer than the last and treats people much better, so there's not the problem of the last one where people walked out on jobs because he was such an ass.
So did I feel really bad going back to the old house and showering with no shower curtain or bath mat, and leaving a puddle? Not so much.
But maybe this is the universe's kick-in-the-ass way of tell me it's time to hit the gym hard-core. It's about .4 miles away, a quick walk, and after a workout a shower awaits. So that's the plan tomorrow along with job training. Hopefully the job all works out - it's a dream schedule for me right now - 5 hours per week, 2.5 each on Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings. Get paid for that time plus prep time, and this class ends before the end of the term rush, finals, and my trip. If this class goes well I'll get more when I get back from Senegal, so that's way cool.
So, I'll dig out my gym bag and load it up and head there in the mornings for awhile.
I love New Orleans. I love New Orleans. I love New Orleans.
Trickle. Not even enough pressure to make it up to the shower head. Not even enough to fill a bucket in an hour.
"Hi Robin. Sorry to call you at this time, but there's no water in the shower."
I like my landruler. She was really nice, and made it our problem rather than grimy me alone. She's trying to find a plumber to come tomorrow. That may be a real challenge, I fear, or even getting a plumber at any time soon. There is the benefit that this landruler is far nicer than the last and treats people much better, so there's not the problem of the last one where people walked out on jobs because he was such an ass.
So did I feel really bad going back to the old house and showering with no shower curtain or bath mat, and leaving a puddle? Not so much.
But maybe this is the universe's kick-in-the-ass way of tell me it's time to hit the gym hard-core. It's about .4 miles away, a quick walk, and after a workout a shower awaits. So that's the plan tomorrow along with job training. Hopefully the job all works out - it's a dream schedule for me right now - 5 hours per week, 2.5 each on Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings. Get paid for that time plus prep time, and this class ends before the end of the term rush, finals, and my trip. If this class goes well I'll get more when I get back from Senegal, so that's way cool.
So, I'll dig out my gym bag and load it up and head there in the mornings for awhile.
I love New Orleans. I love New Orleans. I love New Orleans.
Ahmed rocks
Well, my new apartment is basically full and my new backdoor actually works now - all thanks to Ahmed! Thank you, thank you! (Now that I know that he downloads my blog each morning and sends it to Tami.) You improved the quality of my life 1000 fold! Between the racist kitchen island and the access to the backyard, the place is actually habitable now!
We went to Freret Cafe and I have to agree with you Jen that it wasn't Pyramids quality. (We couldn't go to Pyramids for obvious reasons ... you know, Ramadan and daylight?)
So now I'll just take one more load over and then I'll do some unpacking and then some more revising on my paper.
Jenny kept telling me, and now Ahmed is, that's a good space for me, this new apartment. Keep telling me and I'll believe it more. It feels weird to have my bedroom RIGHT THERE by the frontdoor ... but maybe it's just a Creole thing I'm living (they welcomed guests into their bedrooms for business dealings).
OK, a little packing, a little moving, a little unpacking, a little revising.
But first, a little chocolate. Always.
We went to Freret Cafe and I have to agree with you Jen that it wasn't Pyramids quality. (We couldn't go to Pyramids for obvious reasons ... you know, Ramadan and daylight?)
So now I'll just take one more load over and then I'll do some unpacking and then some more revising on my paper.
Jenny kept telling me, and now Ahmed is, that's a good space for me, this new apartment. Keep telling me and I'll believe it more. It feels weird to have my bedroom RIGHT THERE by the frontdoor ... but maybe it's just a Creole thing I'm living (they welcomed guests into their bedrooms for business dealings).
OK, a little packing, a little moving, a little unpacking, a little revising.
But first, a little chocolate. Always.
no excuse but my own
This inability to write a good legal memo - it's all me.
My instructor is awesome (and a little scary to men). I said, "This whole structure doesn't make sense to me," and she said, "Well, let's make sure that before you leave that it does, and that I've fully answered all your questions." She really would have sat there with me for hours, I have no doubt.
My actual TA just emailed me responses to questions - and her answers were totally right on and super helpful. Additionally, she was encouraging and sent it at 10:00 pm WHILE SHE IS AWAY ON VACATION FOR THE WEEKEND. She ended with: "Is this helpful? Let me know if you have any questions about the above or any further questions. Best of luck, you are almost done with it."
The TA she sent me to yesterday, was of the same caliber of quality helpfulness. He fully and thoroughly answered every question and offered meaningful advice.
So, I have three very strong and helpful people backing me up. WHY THE HELL DO I SUCK?
Sigh.
But this is, with only one exception, the case through First Choice Law School - the profs are remarkably good. Head-and-shoulders above all but a few I've had in the past. They take the subject matter and our learning very seriously. Often, especially with my last school experience, class was often about butt-in-chair-for-credit time. NO WAY of that here.
So, I wanted a challenge. I wanted more rigor; I wanted excellence.
So here I am, paying $40K/year for that rigor. It's like emptying my wallet every time I self-flagellate.
I have this Black & Decker cordless tool set which I bought ... 4+ years ago. Haven't charged the battery since then - and it still holds a charge! Wow!
In my new place, the back door is wedged shut through some really strange carpentry. I'll get Ahmed help me force it open and fix it - like *I* took off the kitchen door yesterday so that we can get the kitchen island in there today - and *I* will put up the shades (which are two inches too short, but who cares). I'm ready to move!
My instructor is awesome (and a little scary to men). I said, "This whole structure doesn't make sense to me," and she said, "Well, let's make sure that before you leave that it does, and that I've fully answered all your questions." She really would have sat there with me for hours, I have no doubt.
My actual TA just emailed me responses to questions - and her answers were totally right on and super helpful. Additionally, she was encouraging and sent it at 10:00 pm WHILE SHE IS AWAY ON VACATION FOR THE WEEKEND. She ended with: "Is this helpful? Let me know if you have any questions about the above or any further questions. Best of luck, you are almost done with it."
The TA she sent me to yesterday, was of the same caliber of quality helpfulness. He fully and thoroughly answered every question and offered meaningful advice.
So, I have three very strong and helpful people backing me up. WHY THE HELL DO I SUCK?
Sigh.
But this is, with only one exception, the case through First Choice Law School - the profs are remarkably good. Head-and-shoulders above all but a few I've had in the past. They take the subject matter and our learning very seriously. Often, especially with my last school experience, class was often about butt-in-chair-for-credit time. NO WAY of that here.
So, I wanted a challenge. I wanted more rigor; I wanted excellence.
So here I am, paying $40K/year for that rigor. It's like emptying my wallet every time I self-flagellate.
I have this Black & Decker cordless tool set which I bought ... 4+ years ago. Haven't charged the battery since then - and it still holds a charge! Wow!
In my new place, the back door is wedged shut through some really strange carpentry. I'll get Ahmed help me force it open and fix it - like *I* took off the kitchen door yesterday so that we can get the kitchen island in there today - and *I* will put up the shades (which are two inches too short, but who cares). I'm ready to move!
goodbye neighborhood
This morning, about 6:00, I was awakened by people talking very loudly. A group were grousing about something and one person's voice rose above the others, just repeating, "What goes around comes around."
Was this the final wisdom I was to glean from this neighborhood?
And then, at 7:00 this morning, and still going at it 20 minutes later, a man is edging and weed-whacking outside the only window that I can open. The is the first time I've EVER had neighborhood noise to deal with.
And so the neighborhood wishes me farewell.
Was this the final wisdom I was to glean from this neighborhood?
And then, at 7:00 this morning, and still going at it 20 minutes later, a man is edging and weed-whacking outside the only window that I can open. The is the first time I've EVER had neighborhood noise to deal with.
And so the neighborhood wishes me farewell.
Friday, September 29, 2006
southern women give good ... directions
I first noticed it with Tami. Extremely thorough and clear directions. Back in Cali, when people give directions like that, they're often wrong. Not here.
Today I went to the racist house to look at the kitchen island (and it's PERFECT and saves me the hassle of Ikea and the expense of anyplace else) and she called when she wanted me to come over. "What's your address?" I asked. "I can mapquest it."
I could hear the disdain drip from her voice. "Oh, I can give you directions." And they ranked right up there as among the best directions ever. Yup, far better than mapquest. And I learned how to pronounce a street name correctly.
There's a hospitality and a cordiality about southern women ... but mostly, there are superior direction-giving skills.
Today I went to the racist house to look at the kitchen island (and it's PERFECT and saves me the hassle of Ikea and the expense of anyplace else) and she called when she wanted me to come over. "What's your address?" I asked. "I can mapquest it."
I could hear the disdain drip from her voice. "Oh, I can give you directions." And they ranked right up there as among the best directions ever. Yup, far better than mapquest. And I learned how to pronounce a street name correctly.
There's a hospitality and a cordiality about southern women ... but mostly, there are superior direction-giving skills.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
procrastinating
I email Sunpie Barnes. I'm a big fan.
I check all my email accounts every 15 seconds.
I eat jambalaya.
I flip through the writing instructions again.
I think about all sorts of other things.
I look at my phone.
I save the one sentence I've written.
I empty the dishwasher.
I think about packing.
I put up my hair.
I drink some more water.
I blog.
I check my email again. Sunpie hasn't written yet. Bastard.
I email the TA asking her to meet me tomorrow.
I put comments in my paper.
I look at the map of Africa.
I email with the director of the program in Senegal to learn details of where I'll be.
I listen to the neighborhood chatter.
I wonder why nobody calls me back. I curse them.
I look at the writing textbook to see yet again how its directions are completely different than the instructor's.
I chat with the incompetent Bell South representative who won't just tell me how much it would cost to run new landline phone line into my new apartment (just noticed - it doesn't have it. DAMMIT).
Think about how things aren't ready in the new apartment and how frustrated that makes me.
Think about how much time I spent going to Target today for things I need for new apartment.
Think about how much time I waste thinking about those things.
Time for some more water.
I examine the refrigerator.
I think about how best to transport everything in the kitchen to the new apartment which is not yet ready.
I think about how much better I'll feel working on this stupid writing assignment at 6:30 a.m. instead of 8:30 p.m.
I wonder about my writing instructor's perverse sexual proclivities.
I look through the instructions again, seeking out clues.
I flip through the student directory which contains our pictures and undergrad institutions. It's creepy.
I make my to-do list for tomorrow.
I close my blog and get back to "work."
I check all my email accounts every 15 seconds.
I eat jambalaya.
I flip through the writing instructions again.
I think about all sorts of other things.
I look at my phone.
I save the one sentence I've written.
I empty the dishwasher.
I think about packing.
I put up my hair.
I drink some more water.
I blog.
I check my email again. Sunpie hasn't written yet. Bastard.
I email the TA asking her to meet me tomorrow.
I put comments in my paper.
I look at the map of Africa.
I email with the director of the program in Senegal to learn details of where I'll be.
I listen to the neighborhood chatter.
I wonder why nobody calls me back. I curse them.
I look at the writing textbook to see yet again how its directions are completely different than the instructor's.
I chat with the incompetent Bell South representative who won't just tell me how much it would cost to run new landline phone line into my new apartment (just noticed - it doesn't have it. DAMMIT).
Think about how things aren't ready in the new apartment and how frustrated that makes me.
Think about how much time I spent going to Target today for things I need for new apartment.
Think about how much time I waste thinking about those things.
Time for some more water.
I examine the refrigerator.
I think about how best to transport everything in the kitchen to the new apartment which is not yet ready.
I think about how much better I'll feel working on this stupid writing assignment at 6:30 a.m. instead of 8:30 p.m.
I wonder about my writing instructor's perverse sexual proclivities.
I look through the instructions again, seeking out clues.
I flip through the student directory which contains our pictures and undergrad institutions. It's creepy.
I make my to-do list for tomorrow.
I close my blog and get back to "work."
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
i don't wanna be a lawyer no more
This shit is HARD!! And I'm a crappy writer now and have a Swiss-cheese brain.
And the more time I spend around lawyers and lawyers-in-training, the less I want to be around them.
So I was sitting in writing class, realizing how crappy my paper was (it was), and the supervisor who sits in front of me (whose bad attitude rivals my own) was talking about which classes they want me to teach at the test prep place.
Why again did I leave teaching? I already know how to do that pretty well. It's ingrained in me. This lawyer stuff - it's so foreign. And hard. And I'm wrong a lot. It sucks.
So now I'll brief some stupid Torts cases. I have the final draft of my crappy-ass paper due on Wednesday and the instructor and the TA's will not speak to us after Saturday noon. WTF?! I'm BUSY with classes and moving tomorrow and Friday and Saturday morning! When exactly am I supposed to write the entire memo and completely gut and revise the crappy discussion section that I didn't know how to do right the first time?
Today is the worst day, so I'm just tired - I started at 8:30 - 9:45 with Contracts. Then I typed up class notes in the computer lab until a meeting from 12-1:30 (with lunch - falafel, not as good as Pyramids) where I met a cool immigration lawyer who moved back down here to help her family (and I could hire her to help me with the Dayton situation - she's a real pro). Then I had
Criminal Law from 2:30-3:45, Civil Procedure from 4:00-4:50, Spanish from 5:00-5:50, Legal REsearch and Writing from 6:00-6:50, and then a Spanish dinner from the organization that I'm volunteer coordinator for so couldn't really bail, and I had to spend the whole time talking to some smarmy Venezuelan. Thursday and Friday aren't all that much better, so when exactly am I supposed to go see the instructor with questions? When am I supposed to work?
Oh, I guess right now.
So, the last day to get 50% of my money back would have been Monday. Here I am. Plunging forward because what the hell else am I going to do?
Even chocolate won't do it for me today.
And the more time I spend around lawyers and lawyers-in-training, the less I want to be around them.
So I was sitting in writing class, realizing how crappy my paper was (it was), and the supervisor who sits in front of me (whose bad attitude rivals my own) was talking about which classes they want me to teach at the test prep place.
Why again did I leave teaching? I already know how to do that pretty well. It's ingrained in me. This lawyer stuff - it's so foreign. And hard. And I'm wrong a lot. It sucks.
So now I'll brief some stupid Torts cases. I have the final draft of my crappy-ass paper due on Wednesday and the instructor and the TA's will not speak to us after Saturday noon. WTF?! I'm BUSY with classes and moving tomorrow and Friday and Saturday morning! When exactly am I supposed to write the entire memo and completely gut and revise the crappy discussion section that I didn't know how to do right the first time?
Today is the worst day, so I'm just tired - I started at 8:30 - 9:45 with Contracts. Then I typed up class notes in the computer lab until a meeting from 12-1:30 (with lunch - falafel, not as good as Pyramids) where I met a cool immigration lawyer who moved back down here to help her family (and I could hire her to help me with the Dayton situation - she's a real pro). Then I had
Criminal Law from 2:30-3:45, Civil Procedure from 4:00-4:50, Spanish from 5:00-5:50, Legal REsearch and Writing from 6:00-6:50, and then a Spanish dinner from the organization that I'm volunteer coordinator for so couldn't really bail, and I had to spend the whole time talking to some smarmy Venezuelan. Thursday and Friday aren't all that much better, so when exactly am I supposed to go see the instructor with questions? When am I supposed to work?
Oh, I guess right now.
So, the last day to get 50% of my money back would have been Monday. Here I am. Plunging forward because what the hell else am I going to do?
Even chocolate won't do it for me today.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
worst nightmare ever
It was so bad, it actually woke me up. I lay there shivering in a cold sweat.
No monsters, no huge roaches, no violence though. Here's a peek into my nerdy soul.
I dreamt that my legal writing closed memo which is due next week was late. There was driving and chocolate involved (and Jenny was there), and a remembrance that if I turn in my paper later it will drop dramatically in grade.
The terror, the horror.
Dayton's worst nightmare, the one that wakes him up, is reliving when rebels killed his father, took away his mother, burned the houses down. Or when he witnessed hundreds of people trapped in a warehouse and burned alive, their screams still haunt him, and there was no way he and others could get them out.
Has my life really been so easy?
No monsters, no huge roaches, no violence though. Here's a peek into my nerdy soul.
I dreamt that my legal writing closed memo which is due next week was late. There was driving and chocolate involved (and Jenny was there), and a remembrance that if I turn in my paper later it will drop dramatically in grade.
The terror, the horror.
Dayton's worst nightmare, the one that wakes him up, is reliving when rebels killed his father, took away his mother, burned the houses down. Or when he witnessed hundreds of people trapped in a warehouse and burned alive, their screams still haunt him, and there was no way he and others could get them out.
Has my life really been so easy?
Monday, September 25, 2006
anti-glam
So, the next time I see some pre-game show with the on-field crowds close enough to be able to spit on Bono (not that I wanted to - I'm just saying) - with The Edge smiling (never seen it before - but NOLA is a major project of his) and Green Day working it hard from the heart and Bono's charisma oozing all over us aplenty while we stare up at the HUGE crowds while standing on the astro-turf at the 40-yard-line - what will I think?
suckers.
We waited 7 hours for 9 minutes of music. Did I have better things to do with 7 hours? Um, yeah, I'm a law student and still behind in most of my work and moving in a few days.
Now, I'm not trying to complain. It was pretty cool really - to be RIGHT THERE with the bands, and being in the Superdome upon its reopening, surrounded by grateful crowds and on the field with the Mardi Gras Indian Krewe (who are Black, but they're called the Indians in another NOLA straight-forwardness).
I'll put it in the category with being at the Berlin Wall when it came down. Being in the streets of Moscow just after a coup attempt. Hey, it's history and I'm there like Forrest Gump.
The best part was chilling with The Puerto Ricans, A and J. Jenny, if J only had a belly I'd consider him for you - he is just as adorable as they come. Wicked sense of humor, but he'll watch my Wal-Mart video.
I guess friendships forged in foxholes - or waiting 7 hours in a freezing Arena to see U2 - are the most meaningful.
suckers.
We waited 7 hours for 9 minutes of music. Did I have better things to do with 7 hours? Um, yeah, I'm a law student and still behind in most of my work and moving in a few days.
Now, I'm not trying to complain. It was pretty cool really - to be RIGHT THERE with the bands, and being in the Superdome upon its reopening, surrounded by grateful crowds and on the field with the Mardi Gras Indian Krewe (who are Black, but they're called the Indians in another NOLA straight-forwardness).
I'll put it in the category with being at the Berlin Wall when it came down. Being in the streets of Moscow just after a coup attempt. Hey, it's history and I'm there like Forrest Gump.
The best part was chilling with The Puerto Ricans, A and J. Jenny, if J only had a belly I'd consider him for you - he is just as adorable as they come. Wicked sense of humor, but he'll watch my Wal-Mart video.
I guess friendships forged in foxholes - or waiting 7 hours in a freezing Arena to see U2 - are the most meaningful.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
how I know I'll never practice criminal law
First case I had to read was about a father who beat his child to death along with the mother. It made me so nauseous, and he got off of manslaughter because they couldn't PROVE that the injuries he did accelerated the 6-year-old's death.
I just wrapped up reading about a guy who hit a pedestrian, slowed momentarily - just long enough for the victim to roll off the hood and get lodged under the car - before driving away. This poor pedestrian either died from horrible injuries immediately, or lived long enough to be trapped underneath a car and die that way. And because they couldn't prove the second, he got off on manslaughter.
It's different when I watch all those Law and Order shows - I love them because they're like a puzzle. They're not real. All these cases are real, and I cannot stomach them in the least.
Just give me boring business maritime contracts. And a nice paycheck. And travel in business class.
I just wrapped up reading about a guy who hit a pedestrian, slowed momentarily - just long enough for the victim to roll off the hood and get lodged under the car - before driving away. This poor pedestrian either died from horrible injuries immediately, or lived long enough to be trapped underneath a car and die that way. And because they couldn't prove the second, he got off on manslaughter.
It's different when I watch all those Law and Order shows - I love them because they're like a puzzle. They're not real. All these cases are real, and I cannot stomach them in the least.
Just give me boring business maritime contracts. And a nice paycheck. And travel in business class.
Popeye's dead
Does the whole poisonous spinach thing have anybody else spooked?
Spinach is THE vegetable for me. OK, yeah, I know I say that about all the vegetables - especially zucchini, chayote, broccoli, sweet potatoes ... ok, so I'm a veg slut. But spinach and me - we go way back and I thought our relationship was special. I eat it raw on sandwiches and salads, stir-fried, in soups, like greens, German-style creamed, and saag panir. There is no position - er, manner of preparation - I would ever decline with spinach.
I never thought spinach would do me wrong. I feel so betrayed.
My refrigerator cries out for a bag of baby spinach, but I just can't do it. Once bitten, twice shy.
The worst to me is the families who worked so hard to provide nutritious fare to their children - and because of it the kids are deathly ill or actually dead. Sneaking spinach in a fruit smoothie or baked with a chicken breast - I would SO do those kinds of things. And it could kill my kids?
The world's not safe for young 'uns. If it's not Susan Smith, it's spinach.
Spinach is THE vegetable for me. OK, yeah, I know I say that about all the vegetables - especially zucchini, chayote, broccoli, sweet potatoes ... ok, so I'm a veg slut. But spinach and me - we go way back and I thought our relationship was special. I eat it raw on sandwiches and salads, stir-fried, in soups, like greens, German-style creamed, and saag panir. There is no position - er, manner of preparation - I would ever decline with spinach.
I never thought spinach would do me wrong. I feel so betrayed.
My refrigerator cries out for a bag of baby spinach, but I just can't do it. Once bitten, twice shy.
The worst to me is the families who worked so hard to provide nutritious fare to their children - and because of it the kids are deathly ill or actually dead. Sneaking spinach in a fruit smoothie or baked with a chicken breast - I would SO do those kinds of things. And it could kill my kids?
The world's not safe for young 'uns. If it's not Susan Smith, it's spinach.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
keep her in your thoughts/prayers
I try not to talk about other people's problems here out of respect for confidentiality, but I can't get this out of my mind and hope she doesn't mind.
Tami's sister, pregnant with her second child, just learned in her first ultrasound that the baby she's carrying (now in the 25th week of pregnancy) will not be born alive because the brain isn't developing properly. Tami's parents are driving this weekend to bring her back here because she needs to have an abortion, and they'll do it in Metairie (though I assume not where she lives in Texas) - but she's nearing the end of the second trimester, so she needs to do it really soon because even for medical reasons it gets problematic both legally and medically.
One doesn't have to be anti-abortion (as Tami and her family are) to feel what a horrible situation this is. It's so bad on so many levels and I can only imagine what Tami's sister is going through (and her husband and everybody else).
I know things like this just happen and there's no fault to lie anywhere. It's more of a miracle for every healthy baby that is born - there are so many things that can go wrong, it's really surprising they don't happen more often. But knowing that and feeling the tragedy are so different. When one is carrying life inside, only to find it's not life - how devastating.
Tami's sister, pregnant with her second child, just learned in her first ultrasound that the baby she's carrying (now in the 25th week of pregnancy) will not be born alive because the brain isn't developing properly. Tami's parents are driving this weekend to bring her back here because she needs to have an abortion, and they'll do it in Metairie (though I assume not where she lives in Texas) - but she's nearing the end of the second trimester, so she needs to do it really soon because even for medical reasons it gets problematic both legally and medically.
One doesn't have to be anti-abortion (as Tami and her family are) to feel what a horrible situation this is. It's so bad on so many levels and I can only imagine what Tami's sister is going through (and her husband and everybody else).
I know things like this just happen and there's no fault to lie anywhere. It's more of a miracle for every healthy baby that is born - there are so many things that can go wrong, it's really surprising they don't happen more often. But knowing that and feeling the tragedy are so different. When one is carrying life inside, only to find it's not life - how devastating.
Friday, September 22, 2006
isn't good news supposed to come in 3s too?
Ask me what I'm doing Monday.
Spending quality time with Bono and Billy Joe! The Superdome reopens Monday for the first Saints game there since Katrina, and the pre-game show is U2 and Green Day. I was reading about it in the papers last month, wondering wistfully how I could get there. Because these aren't just two bands I like, but they are only singing 3-4 songs each, which is about my attention span.
So a couple mornings ago I compulsively checked my email immediately upon waking, and there was an email from some guy I don't know. Long story short, I now have free tickets to the concert! Woo hoo! And some bus will drive us away BEFORE the game. That is the best - no football for me, just tunes, and I don't have to drive. Woo hoo!
The only down side is I'm missing a class of Criminal Law. That sort of freaks me out.
The other good news is that our revised gas & electric bill came and it's $140 less than the last one. In fact, when I did my little fancy math to figure out how much I THOUGHT we owed, that was almost $40 more than what we actually owe. 20 summer days of gas and electric for $54.54 - that I can live with better.
The only downside there is that they READ THE WRONG METER AGAIN. So, this amount is actually correct, but it will be messed up again next bill. Sigh. I've spent too many hours of my life dealing with this already. I just want to get out of here without any more ado.
So, what's the 3rd good thing? I'm waiting! It's 8:18 pm and I'm here madly catching up on all the work I've fallen behind in, hoping something else wonderful and fantastic will happen. Guess I'm just greedy.
And stupid. So, I'm sitting in class on Wednesday evening and this guy I don't recognize turns to me and says, "So, Friday looks pretty good for you?" "For what?" I'm thinking, do I know you? I know the two guys around him, and the two women around me, and I'm trying to think what I agreed to. "For [test prep job]." I stared.
MY NEW JOB'S SUPERVISOR IS IN ALL MY LAW CLASSES AND I DIDN'T EVEN RECOGNIZE HIM.
THAT makes me get over the stupidity I always feel when I say to Blind Woman, "See you later." But she's so nice, she says back to me, "See you." So today I just came clean with her, "Look, I don't ever know when you need help, or when you know who I am so I don't keep saying my name." She's recognizing my voice now, but we didn't get the whole help thing sorted out. She said she hates the room we're in on Fridays because it's different and she's never sure she's in the right seat - and I had seen that look on her face so that's why I went over to chat with her.
I'm so self-conscious, which is pretty stupid. The woman who sits in front of her definitely tuned into our conversation, and I wonder if she was like, "Wow, you're saying what I've been meaning to say." Or, "Oh my god, you are so stupid!"
How many blind people have I known well? Um, the crazy woman I used to do in-home care with. But she was crazy and not pleasant, and that's not because she was blind. This Blind Woman at school, she's really nice and pleasant, and that's not because she's blind. I just get all tangled up in duty and trying to figure out what's socially acceptable. Do I help her cross the street? Do I pet the dog? Do I chat it up with her? Do I ask her over for dinner? Do I suggest a study group? Do I tell her my name everytime I approach? Ok, this helps a little.
So, I said I would stay home all this weekend to STUDY, but I'll be honest with my faithful blog readers (Um, so that's who, Jenny and Gail and sometimes Tami and sometimes Michele?):
Spending quality time with Bono and Billy Joe! The Superdome reopens Monday for the first Saints game there since Katrina, and the pre-game show is U2 and Green Day. I was reading about it in the papers last month, wondering wistfully how I could get there. Because these aren't just two bands I like, but they are only singing 3-4 songs each, which is about my attention span.
So a couple mornings ago I compulsively checked my email immediately upon waking, and there was an email from some guy I don't know. Long story short, I now have free tickets to the concert! Woo hoo! And some bus will drive us away BEFORE the game. That is the best - no football for me, just tunes, and I don't have to drive. Woo hoo!
The only down side is I'm missing a class of Criminal Law. That sort of freaks me out.
The other good news is that our revised gas & electric bill came and it's $140 less than the last one. In fact, when I did my little fancy math to figure out how much I THOUGHT we owed, that was almost $40 more than what we actually owe. 20 summer days of gas and electric for $54.54 - that I can live with better.
The only downside there is that they READ THE WRONG METER AGAIN. So, this amount is actually correct, but it will be messed up again next bill. Sigh. I've spent too many hours of my life dealing with this already. I just want to get out of here without any more ado.
So, what's the 3rd good thing? I'm waiting! It's 8:18 pm and I'm here madly catching up on all the work I've fallen behind in, hoping something else wonderful and fantastic will happen. Guess I'm just greedy.
And stupid. So, I'm sitting in class on Wednesday evening and this guy I don't recognize turns to me and says, "So, Friday looks pretty good for you?" "For what?" I'm thinking, do I know you? I know the two guys around him, and the two women around me, and I'm trying to think what I agreed to. "For [test prep job]." I stared.
MY NEW JOB'S SUPERVISOR IS IN ALL MY LAW CLASSES AND I DIDN'T EVEN RECOGNIZE HIM.
THAT makes me get over the stupidity I always feel when I say to Blind Woman, "See you later." But she's so nice, she says back to me, "See you." So today I just came clean with her, "Look, I don't ever know when you need help, or when you know who I am so I don't keep saying my name." She's recognizing my voice now, but we didn't get the whole help thing sorted out. She said she hates the room we're in on Fridays because it's different and she's never sure she's in the right seat - and I had seen that look on her face so that's why I went over to chat with her.
I'm so self-conscious, which is pretty stupid. The woman who sits in front of her definitely tuned into our conversation, and I wonder if she was like, "Wow, you're saying what I've been meaning to say." Or, "Oh my god, you are so stupid!"
How many blind people have I known well? Um, the crazy woman I used to do in-home care with. But she was crazy and not pleasant, and that's not because she was blind. This Blind Woman at school, she's really nice and pleasant, and that's not because she's blind. I just get all tangled up in duty and trying to figure out what's socially acceptable. Do I help her cross the street? Do I pet the dog? Do I chat it up with her? Do I ask her over for dinner? Do I suggest a study group? Do I tell her my name everytime I approach? Ok, this helps a little.
So, I said I would stay home all this weekend to STUDY, but I'll be honest with my faithful blog readers (Um, so that's who, Jenny and Gail and sometimes Tami and sometimes Michele?):
- I'm reading for fun! Bayou Farewell, which I picked up last weekend with Jenny and am really enjoying - though I can't read too much because it makes me so ANGRY AND DEPRESSED about the ecological destruction wreaked on southern Louisiana (Gail - you must read it!). Then I'm going to read Lonely Planet's The Gambia & Senegal (for obvious reasons!). Then tomorrow I'm going to the library to pick up The Bone People (suggested by the same brilliant classmate who suggested I look to fly out of NYC) and So Long a Letter by Miriama Ba (about the clash between modern and traditional values concerning polygamy - by a Senegalese woman). For those who don't know, Dayton's father had numerous wives - I think six. Many, many children. Most modern Liberian men I know have sort of a "wink-wink-shrug-shrug" attitude towards monogamy (think of Joseph propositioning me as deputy wife!). But Dayton, he's different. People tell me he'll have such culture shock when he comes here, but I think not so much - our values align in most significant ways really closely. Anyway, polygamy is alive and well in Liberia, my future home someday (and hopefully a destination for vacation this December), and it's not so simple really.
- I'm cooking a pot of black beans tomorrow. Yum. Which involves a trip to the grocery store, which involves planning shopping, which involves planning something else interesting to cook up on Sunday.
- I'm starting to pack. It will be a tight fit in the new place, and I'll have to pack and sort and plan well. Moving in a week! Woo hoo! The place is just a band-aid, but it's a step up in some ways.
- I'm calling Dayton for a long conversation and I'll finish up the immigration forms - he's given me all the information. (Including a text message exchange today while I was in Torts, ignoring the prof.) I have an immigration appointment on October 3, so I'll wait until then - until I meet with somebody there to make suggestions before I fax the forms to him to mail them back. On the one hand, this is really exciting for me - we're actually ready to file the immigration forms, the application for a fiance visa for him. On the other hand, this of course scares the hell out of me. My life will never be the same. All the kvetching I've done about him not being here - someday that will change. And in some ways I'm SO BEYOND READY FOR IT, but in others, not as much.
- Mostly, I'm going to just enjoy quiet and solitude (which is NOT to say I don't love visitors! I had a great time with Jen! All are welcome!). The Roommate moves out tomorrow, and then I'm free and alone and that's delicious. Except for the whole Crazy Landlord thing, but he's backed off a little after my last uber-bitch note.
- OK, I think I'm headed for bed with Senegal. No 3rd good news today.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
how I spend my time instead of doing homework
Who's going to Senegal?
Why, that would be me. Ticket bought for considerably less than I'd finally budgeted for. Yay to brilliant classmate who told me to just look at NYC-DKR. I'm going through Heathrow - which I hate like Tami hates JFK - but it's all about saving the green.
Who's probably going to have to sleep in JFK upon return?
Me again. And I've done research. Because while I may drop a K to fly to a third-world country that didn't even make it into the last World Cup, I sure as hell ain't spending $200 to sleep in Jamaica, NY just to get up at 3 a.m. to catch a flight. That's half what I'm spending for the entire three weeks of classes and room & board!
What I didn't do in all my incessant travel surfing today was actually look at the flight schedules - and there's nothing back home from NYC after I arrive at 5 pm. Which bites, but whining is futile. And at least I'm informed now thanks to the above-linked site. I love the internet!!
And hate reading law cases. I'm just fried. I'll take tomorrow off too, in order to practice Russian with the really offensive Belorussian (which just shows to what lengths I'll go to avoid work - I hate Russian, never want to use it professionally, and become a person I don't like when I have to use it), and then I'll be inspired again this weekend to get caught up. I hope. I'm starting to feel a little panicked that this is the hardest educational venture I've ever taken.
And who's sublimating?
Me again. Thanks a lot Jen.
Why, that would be me. Ticket bought for considerably less than I'd finally budgeted for. Yay to brilliant classmate who told me to just look at NYC-DKR. I'm going through Heathrow - which I hate like Tami hates JFK - but it's all about saving the green.
Who's probably going to have to sleep in JFK upon return?
Me again. And I've done research. Because while I may drop a K to fly to a third-world country that didn't even make it into the last World Cup, I sure as hell ain't spending $200 to sleep in Jamaica, NY just to get up at 3 a.m. to catch a flight. That's half what I'm spending for the entire three weeks of classes and room & board!
What I didn't do in all my incessant travel surfing today was actually look at the flight schedules - and there's nothing back home from NYC after I arrive at 5 pm. Which bites, but whining is futile. And at least I'm informed now thanks to the above-linked site. I love the internet!!
And hate reading law cases. I'm just fried. I'll take tomorrow off too, in order to practice Russian with the really offensive Belorussian (which just shows to what lengths I'll go to avoid work - I hate Russian, never want to use it professionally, and become a person I don't like when I have to use it), and then I'll be inspired again this weekend to get caught up. I hope. I'm starting to feel a little panicked that this is the hardest educational venture I've ever taken.
And who's sublimating?
Me again. Thanks a lot Jen.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
recipe - Harira
Tami and Jenny vote this is two yumms up, so here's the recipe:
Harira - North African Vegetable Soup - served during Ramadan at iftar/breaking of fast, the national soup of Morocco (from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant)
serves 6-7
1 cup finely chopped onion
2 diced celery stalks
3 T oil
1 t turmeric
1 t ground coriander
1/2 t cinnamon (go easy on it - not too much!)
1/8-1/4 t cayenne (to taste - go easy)
1 small potato chopped
1 small carrot diced
4 small tomatoes chopped (I threw in a can of diced tomatoes)
1 cup tomato juice
4 cups vegetable stock or liquid from cooking chick peas or water
1 small zucchini finely chopped
1/2 cup curly vermiceli, crumbled (I couldn't find curly, so used angel hair pasta)
1 c. canned or cooked chick peas (I just threw in a can - 69 cents at Whole Foods!)
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (I didn't use fresh, but it would be tasty)
salt & pepper to taste
****
Garnish:
chopped fresh parsley
fresh mint leaves
red bell pepper or pimiento strips
********
In a soup pot, saute the onions and celery in the oil until the onions are translucent. Add the spices, potatoes, and carrots and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often. Mix in the chopped tomatoes, tomato juice, and chick pea liquit/stock and simmer until all the vegetables are almost tender.
Add the zucchini and vermicelli and simmer for about 5 minutes longer. Mix in the chick peas, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.
Garnish with chopped parsley, mint leaves, and strips of red bell pepper or pimiento.
*******
I think it would be way yum with cabbage, green beans, and small pasta such as orzo.
Freezes well.
Harira - North African Vegetable Soup - served during Ramadan at iftar/breaking of fast, the national soup of Morocco (from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant)
serves 6-7
1 cup finely chopped onion
2 diced celery stalks
3 T oil
1 t turmeric
1 t ground coriander
1/2 t cinnamon (go easy on it - not too much!)
1/8-1/4 t cayenne (to taste - go easy)
1 small potato chopped
1 small carrot diced
4 small tomatoes chopped (I threw in a can of diced tomatoes)
1 cup tomato juice
4 cups vegetable stock or liquid from cooking chick peas or water
1 small zucchini finely chopped
1/2 cup curly vermiceli, crumbled (I couldn't find curly, so used angel hair pasta)
1 c. canned or cooked chick peas (I just threw in a can - 69 cents at Whole Foods!)
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (I didn't use fresh, but it would be tasty)
salt & pepper to taste
****
Garnish:
chopped fresh parsley
fresh mint leaves
red bell pepper or pimiento strips
********
In a soup pot, saute the onions and celery in the oil until the onions are translucent. Add the spices, potatoes, and carrots and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often. Mix in the chopped tomatoes, tomato juice, and chick pea liquit/stock and simmer until all the vegetables are almost tender.
Add the zucchini and vermicelli and simmer for about 5 minutes longer. Mix in the chick peas, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.
Garnish with chopped parsley, mint leaves, and strips of red bell pepper or pimiento.
*******
I think it would be way yum with cabbage, green beans, and small pasta such as orzo.
Freezes well.
Monday, September 18, 2006
NOLA cruising
Having Jenny visit - much fun!
Yesterday we went out to Laura Plantation, one of the few Creole ones around still. That part was cool, but overall it was way creepy, seeing documents of people bought and sold and that sort of thing. So, along with missions, Jenny and I are over plantations.
The day before we went on a swamp tour, which was much fun, even if I have a bit of ecological difficulty with them tossing jumbo-sized marshmallows at alligators. It was way cool to see all those gators, and our guide was knowledgeable and interesting.
What else have we done? Lots of beignets and eating in general (Pyramids Cafe tops our list - their falafel is fantastic) in addition to driving past houses and oohing and aahing! Cruising the French Quarter, on over to Slidell, and today while I was in class & meetings, Jenny walked all the way down Magazine Street.
So, I think I just signed up for four different language classes (German, Russian, Spanish, French) - on top of my new job teaching test prep and the whole first-year law curriculum. It's good - I'm finally busy. So now I'm off to finalize my draft of my legal research writing assignment, and when Jen gets back we're off for final beignets! While I was sitting on my duff all day, she was out burning off beignets, which is hardly fair, but I'll eat some more for the team.
Yesterday we went out to Laura Plantation, one of the few Creole ones around still. That part was cool, but overall it was way creepy, seeing documents of people bought and sold and that sort of thing. So, along with missions, Jenny and I are over plantations.
The day before we went on a swamp tour, which was much fun, even if I have a bit of ecological difficulty with them tossing jumbo-sized marshmallows at alligators. It was way cool to see all those gators, and our guide was knowledgeable and interesting.
What else have we done? Lots of beignets and eating in general (Pyramids Cafe tops our list - their falafel is fantastic) in addition to driving past houses and oohing and aahing! Cruising the French Quarter, on over to Slidell, and today while I was in class & meetings, Jenny walked all the way down Magazine Street.
So, I think I just signed up for four different language classes (German, Russian, Spanish, French) - on top of my new job teaching test prep and the whole first-year law curriculum. It's good - I'm finally busy. So now I'm off to finalize my draft of my legal research writing assignment, and when Jen gets back we're off for final beignets! While I was sitting on my duff all day, she was out burning off beignets, which is hardly fair, but I'll eat some more for the team.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
know-nothing
Today I got scolded - and this is from the nice professor - for saying, "I don't know."
Oh sure, he wrapped it up in a nice little package of, "Because you're all becoming lawyers, there's this thing we do, which my wife calls, 'answer-for-everything-syndrome'."
Of course, when I said I didn't know, it was because I was tired of playing his game. Much as when Selma brings me the ball, all eager to play - for about two tosses, and then she gives me a look over her shoulder: "Well, you want it, you get it."
Except that, he called on me without my asking. And I was eager - I did what was a damn good brief and analysis of the case. He didn't even know what to say after I was done; he fumbled through his notes until he finally found something I hadn't addressed. "And why was this a matter for the court to decide rather than the jury?" Because it was a matter of law, through res ipsa loquitur, rather than a matter of fact for jury as fact-finder to find. But he calls on me ALL THE TIME, and I feel like in a class of 85, it's rude for me to talk all the time. I didn't care to package the answer in a way that he would approve of, so I just wanted to pass on to someone else who hadn't spoken. A little like looking over my shoulder at him: "You want the answer, you get it."
OK, my Entergy scandal has reached comic proportions - but I'm not laughing. They came back to read the meter today (after not being able to read the meter yesterday because they "couldn't find it") - and READ THE WRONG METER - despite it being clearly marked with the addresses. I've spent about 2 hours and 10 emails with them on this issue, and it's STILL NOT RESOLVED.
Now, I may know nothing about law, but I DO know how to read a gas meter, and I DO know that they're 100CCFs too high on the bill.
Oy.
So, I'm off to the aiport to pick up Jenny, and I think I'll go a little early - do some homework there while eating filled beignets. I'm too distracted here, and I keep thinking of how much electricity it takes to run these A/C units. Sigh.
Oh sure, he wrapped it up in a nice little package of, "Because you're all becoming lawyers, there's this thing we do, which my wife calls, 'answer-for-everything-syndrome'."
Of course, when I said I didn't know, it was because I was tired of playing his game. Much as when Selma brings me the ball, all eager to play - for about two tosses, and then she gives me a look over her shoulder: "Well, you want it, you get it."
Except that, he called on me without my asking. And I was eager - I did what was a damn good brief and analysis of the case. He didn't even know what to say after I was done; he fumbled through his notes until he finally found something I hadn't addressed. "And why was this a matter for the court to decide rather than the jury?" Because it was a matter of law, through res ipsa loquitur, rather than a matter of fact for jury as fact-finder to find. But he calls on me ALL THE TIME, and I feel like in a class of 85, it's rude for me to talk all the time. I didn't care to package the answer in a way that he would approve of, so I just wanted to pass on to someone else who hadn't spoken. A little like looking over my shoulder at him: "You want the answer, you get it."
OK, my Entergy scandal has reached comic proportions - but I'm not laughing. They came back to read the meter today (after not being able to read the meter yesterday because they "couldn't find it") - and READ THE WRONG METER - despite it being clearly marked with the addresses. I've spent about 2 hours and 10 emails with them on this issue, and it's STILL NOT RESOLVED.
Now, I may know nothing about law, but I DO know how to read a gas meter, and I DO know that they're 100CCFs too high on the bill.
Oy.
So, I'm off to the aiport to pick up Jenny, and I think I'll go a little early - do some homework there while eating filled beignets. I'm too distracted here, and I keep thinking of how much electricity it takes to run these A/C units. Sigh.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
who are you voting for prom queen?
When the campaign posters around my law school have slogans such as "You can't go wrong with T & A: Tiffani and Ashlee for Pres & VP" - well, I'm in a time warp I guess. Bad high school or sorority times that I never had to go through? Oy vey.
It doesn't seem to bother me as much as some others. One classmate has started a write-in campaign for me, which is strange. I have no desire for elected office - not here, not later.
The Landlord continues to harass me. I'm about to bust some caps. I'm SOOO eager to move. Oh - and he already listed the place (mind you, we're not officially out for another 28 days) - and for $100 LESS per month than we currently pay!
It doesn't seem to bother me as much as some others. One classmate has started a write-in campaign for me, which is strange. I have no desire for elected office - not here, not later.
The Landlord continues to harass me. I'm about to bust some caps. I'm SOOO eager to move. Oh - and he already listed the place (mind you, we're not officially out for another 28 days) - and for $100 LESS per month than we currently pay!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
go for groovy
After visiting the VERY TINY apartment I may soon call home, I trudged up the stairs of the law school.
There are four flights of stairs to the computer lab. Honestly, sometimes after walking to school, I take the elevator. Today I wish I had.
I saw the Dean, my contracts prof, on the stairwell.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello," he replied, "How are you?"
"Great!" I responded. "How are you?"
"Not as much as great, but good."
"Go for groovy."
"Excuse me?" By this point I'm a full staircase ahead of him, looking down and him looking up as students mill past us.
"Go for groovy. Don't just elevate for great, but go yet higher. Go for groovy."
WHAT MORON INVADED MY BODY IN THOSE MOMENTS???
Why isn't somebody there to tell me, after I said "Great" to shut the hell up?!
Sigh.
So this tiny, efficiency is REALLY TINY. It's about the size of Dayton's house. And let's all remember here - DAYTON LIVES IN A REFUGEE CAMP. Is it empathy that I'm struggling for here, to choose to live like that?
Nope. Cost effectiveness. This place is SOOO close to school - it was a 7-minute stroll to the front door of the law school. It's $125 more than I'm paying now, and no more of The Roommate. It's very nice - completely renovated with slate tiles and new fixtures and everything. Which means clean and all that. And it's really, really close to the Rec Center. And I think there's parking right up to my door, though I need to check on that.
But can I live with NO counter space? I've already configured a board to set over the sink to use for chopping, and shelves on which to put the toaster oven and rice cooker, and the microwave on top of the refrigerator, and a small butcher block cart with storage underneath and an actual surface.
This will all be a really, really good experience for the day I'll live in Hong Kong (or a refugee camp myself - though having a bathroom and a refrigerator and electricity and running water sort of shoots the camp idea). Maybe I need to just check in with Shelton about all sorts of space-finding techniques. I think I can fit all my furniture in there, and everything else I own. I don't want to get rid of anything because hopefully it will only be a few months until Dayton and the girls get here and I'm looking for a bigger place.
It's a band-aid, as Nancy would say. It'll be ok for awhile. I think. I'll go back on Friday morning, with Jenny in tow, to check on it again.
It's definitely not groovy, but it may be good.
There are four flights of stairs to the computer lab. Honestly, sometimes after walking to school, I take the elevator. Today I wish I had.
I saw the Dean, my contracts prof, on the stairwell.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello," he replied, "How are you?"
"Great!" I responded. "How are you?"
"Not as much as great, but good."
"Go for groovy."
"Excuse me?" By this point I'm a full staircase ahead of him, looking down and him looking up as students mill past us.
"Go for groovy. Don't just elevate for great, but go yet higher. Go for groovy."
WHAT MORON INVADED MY BODY IN THOSE MOMENTS???
Why isn't somebody there to tell me, after I said "Great" to shut the hell up?!
Sigh.
So this tiny, efficiency is REALLY TINY. It's about the size of Dayton's house. And let's all remember here - DAYTON LIVES IN A REFUGEE CAMP. Is it empathy that I'm struggling for here, to choose to live like that?
Nope. Cost effectiveness. This place is SOOO close to school - it was a 7-minute stroll to the front door of the law school. It's $125 more than I'm paying now, and no more of The Roommate. It's very nice - completely renovated with slate tiles and new fixtures and everything. Which means clean and all that. And it's really, really close to the Rec Center. And I think there's parking right up to my door, though I need to check on that.
But can I live with NO counter space? I've already configured a board to set over the sink to use for chopping, and shelves on which to put the toaster oven and rice cooker, and the microwave on top of the refrigerator, and a small butcher block cart with storage underneath and an actual surface.
This will all be a really, really good experience for the day I'll live in Hong Kong (or a refugee camp myself - though having a bathroom and a refrigerator and electricity and running water sort of shoots the camp idea). Maybe I need to just check in with Shelton about all sorts of space-finding techniques. I think I can fit all my furniture in there, and everything else I own. I don't want to get rid of anything because hopefully it will only be a few months until Dayton and the girls get here and I'm looking for a bigger place.
It's a band-aid, as Nancy would say. It'll be ok for awhile. I think. I'll go back on Friday morning, with Jenny in tow, to check on it again.
It's definitely not groovy, but it may be good.
Monday, September 11, 2006
news
OK, I need a better nickname than "Blind Woman." How about ... no, can't call her by undergrad institution because that would infringe on her privacy.
ANYWAY, the woman without a nickname, she just said to me, "See ya later."
Ha! My guilt is assuaged! "See" has colloquial usage that is not limited to sighted persons.
Thanks to all for birthday greetings! (and even Michele!) Saturday I went out with Tami and Ahmed and Bekher for yummy African food and beignets. Much fun! Yesterday was spent cooking and shopping (not in that order, clearly), househunting, etc.
Bad news. The house that seemed *perfect* for me is already rented out. But, we have given official notice with move-out date of October 10, so hopefully I'll find something good right around the end of the month. (Or, Jenny will have remarkable apartment-finding skills this weekend!) It's a very unpleasant situation with landlord - he told The Roommate that we have a 1-year lease ... which, we don't, which has been a major problem because he keeps dodging on it (he'll evict us if he can get more rent) or demanding I show up *immediately* to sign it. Bullshit. We're out.
I just spent 29 minutes on line with energy company. I hate hold! A tech is supposed to come out this Thursday, so hopefully s/he is able to clear up the difficulty. It's $100! ARGH!
ANYWAY, the woman without a nickname, she just said to me, "See ya later."
Ha! My guilt is assuaged! "See" has colloquial usage that is not limited to sighted persons.
Thanks to all for birthday greetings! (and even Michele!) Saturday I went out with Tami and Ahmed and Bekher for yummy African food and beignets. Much fun! Yesterday was spent cooking and shopping (not in that order, clearly), househunting, etc.
Bad news. The house that seemed *perfect* for me is already rented out. But, we have given official notice with move-out date of October 10, so hopefully I'll find something good right around the end of the month. (Or, Jenny will have remarkable apartment-finding skills this weekend!) It's a very unpleasant situation with landlord - he told The Roommate that we have a 1-year lease ... which, we don't, which has been a major problem because he keeps dodging on it (he'll evict us if he can get more rent) or demanding I show up *immediately* to sign it. Bullshit. We're out.
I just spent 29 minutes on line with energy company. I hate hold! A tech is supposed to come out this Thursday, so hopefully s/he is able to clear up the difficulty. It's $100! ARGH!
Friday, September 08, 2006
Working Question Hero
It was not my intent rile up the masses in Contracts, to become a shero to the downtrodden by the professor's inquisitory ways.
No, indeed, it was a small victory I sought. One behind the scenes, without public identification or knowledge. I wanted people to question without giving me credit for this insurrection. Of course, Contracts Prof, also Law School Dean, has above-average intelligence - and what works with high school principals will not work with him. He has already called questioning "A Page from the {My Last Name} Book" about three times. When a student asked a hypothetical he said I had more than enough facts and she should just ask me for whatever she lacks and I could make myriad new questions out of it.
And now, The Boy Who Is Considered A Joke by all professors (and most if not all students - the mostly-deaf student had a stenographer one day and he told her not to write down anything TBWISCJ says, and he made that well-known ASL sign for "crazy") approached me, trying to harangue me into joining a study group of his making. I smiled and walked on, then shouted across the courtyard to The German to make TBWICAJ think perhaps my English isn't so great.
And even that, it was a question. And the Dean walked out, and I scurried away - though he is less bombastic without an audience.
I think though, that if the professors did not insist upon calling me by "Mr." or "Ms." {Last Name Here}, then perhaps I would not be quite so rebellious. But by this name, I'm accustomed to being the bombastic inquisitor. So now all these students are approaching me, asking what my first name is, and I want to just say "Ms." Though, of the past three females I've met, their names are Claire, Sylvia, and Amelia - probably three of my very favorite names. Certainly better than Ms.
No, indeed, it was a small victory I sought. One behind the scenes, without public identification or knowledge. I wanted people to question without giving me credit for this insurrection. Of course, Contracts Prof, also Law School Dean, has above-average intelligence - and what works with high school principals will not work with him. He has already called questioning "A Page from the {My Last Name} Book" about three times. When a student asked a hypothetical he said I had more than enough facts and she should just ask me for whatever she lacks and I could make myriad new questions out of it.
And now, The Boy Who Is Considered A Joke by all professors (and most if not all students - the mostly-deaf student had a stenographer one day and he told her not to write down anything TBWISCJ says, and he made that well-known ASL sign for "crazy") approached me, trying to harangue me into joining a study group of his making. I smiled and walked on, then shouted across the courtyard to The German to make TBWICAJ think perhaps my English isn't so great.
And even that, it was a question. And the Dean walked out, and I scurried away - though he is less bombastic without an audience.
I think though, that if the professors did not insist upon calling me by "Mr." or "Ms." {Last Name Here}, then perhaps I would not be quite so rebellious. But by this name, I'm accustomed to being the bombastic inquisitor. So now all these students are approaching me, asking what my first name is, and I want to just say "Ms." Though, of the past three females I've met, their names are Claire, Sylvia, and Amelia - probably three of my very favorite names. Certainly better than Ms.
stupid, stupid, stupid
Is it really the stupidest thing I've ever said, to the blind girl, "Oh, we live near each other - I'll be seeing you around!"? [Puppy's sad eyes lured me into the elevator..]
Or was it agitating my Contracts prof to the point that he spent more time trying to ridicule me than discussing points of law? The best part of that is that because I relentlessly continued with my pursuit of right to question that about 5 people followed suit - he just about had an apoplectic fit. "I'm the one asking questions!" he's cried throughout the term. Well, not today Mr. Dean of Law School, not today. I've had enough subversive students to know exactly how to play this game. I'll be subverting his paradigm. I really did try to be his notion of a good student, but I just can't.
In his defense, he was quite kind at the end to me when I actually answered a question instead of pushing further with his questions. He ended the class by saying what a great answer it was (though did have to make an unfortunate joke based on my last name and archery).
OK, five minutes until next class (Torts), must finish prep notes for that.
Or was it agitating my Contracts prof to the point that he spent more time trying to ridicule me than discussing points of law? The best part of that is that because I relentlessly continued with my pursuit of right to question that about 5 people followed suit - he just about had an apoplectic fit. "I'm the one asking questions!" he's cried throughout the term. Well, not today Mr. Dean of Law School, not today. I've had enough subversive students to know exactly how to play this game. I'll be subverting his paradigm. I really did try to be his notion of a good student, but I just can't.
In his defense, he was quite kind at the end to me when I actually answered a question instead of pushing further with his questions. He ended the class by saying what a great answer it was (though did have to make an unfortunate joke based on my last name and archery).
OK, five minutes until next class (Torts), must finish prep notes for that.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Bastards
Delta took away my flight again. Now it's like $2,300, which is really too much. Bastards. I'll check again each day and see, and once it gets below 2K, I'll grab it. If it does. If not, I'll cry. I think they play this game of releasing a few seats each week, so maybe I've got my timing down now - but I can't keep being so wishy washy!
Funniest question I got asked today? "Why are you here, anyway?" OK, she actually said, "Do you mind if I ask you a question? And feel free to say it's none of my business, but do you have like a one-sentence answer to the question about why you came here? You're in several of my classes and based on the things you say, I can tell you're not the "typical" First Choice Law School student, so I've been dying to ask you."
She's lucky that I was being served yummy food simultaneously. And what things do I say? I thought I was keeping a low profile!
And a budding immigration lawyer brought me home. She lives 10 blocks from campus and she drives? Oy.
And some guy, who overheard me answer the question where I'm originally from, leaned over and said, "Every woman I've ever met from Alaska I've found very interesting and I've really liked." Um, ok. Is it that we know how to wrassle grizzlies barehanded? Or chop our own firewood? Or is it how hard our nipples get in the cold?
Somebody else walked over to me after Torts and asked if I used to be an engineer. She was a chemical engineer. I've been meaning to talk to her for a while - she looks like a nice, fun person to hang with, and she tried to start a conversation when I was studying with my schoolgirls yesterday. But I thought she was talking to them (it's the whole Black thing - and not everybody yet knows that I'm not really white, so they don't really talk to me unless I have an entrance like through the cool kids who asked me to study with them - and all the Black kids stick together here, and all the white kids, and all the Asian kids - it's weird - with some exceptions, of course, like me), but she said today she was talking to me yesterday.
See, I KNEW I was playing my cards right. I don't have to be all out there and gushy and personable - the people, they will come to me. I don't think I sound that great in class, but today it got me like five people starting conversations with me, so it works. And I'm the only person whose name my writing teacher remembered.
Like my student Ana Angel used to say, "Cool is on the inside." If people see it and they like me, that's fine. If they don't, that's fine.
Everything I need to know in life I didn't learn in kindergarten - I learned it from teaching 8th grade.
Yesterday my Contracts prof was dismayed that nobody was jumping up with their hands to answer questions - like we used to do two weeks ago. It's of course because his caustic humor makes us feel unsafe in the classroom. He's damn funny, but we're tired of going out on a limb. But, I will prepare now to the best of my ability, and try my best to answer at least three of his questions (he doesn't like it when I ask questions). He's not like my Civil Procedure prof, whom I realized today really knows how to work a room - he has gotten almost every person in there to volunteer answers, and he only makes fun of one kid who is considered the class joke - which is the best way to handle him because he likes to waste classtime on stupid things. My Torts prof, on the other hand, has gone too far in the other extreme - he's such a nice guy and would never disagree with somebody, that we never know what we're supposed to think is right and we go off on all sorts of circuitous paths. Though, I think he's getting better. And he likes me because I answer his questions lots when nobody else will.
OK, I'm procrastinating.
Funniest question I got asked today? "Why are you here, anyway?" OK, she actually said, "Do you mind if I ask you a question? And feel free to say it's none of my business, but do you have like a one-sentence answer to the question about why you came here? You're in several of my classes and based on the things you say, I can tell you're not the "typical" First Choice Law School student, so I've been dying to ask you."
She's lucky that I was being served yummy food simultaneously. And what things do I say? I thought I was keeping a low profile!
And a budding immigration lawyer brought me home. She lives 10 blocks from campus and she drives? Oy.
And some guy, who overheard me answer the question where I'm originally from, leaned over and said, "Every woman I've ever met from Alaska I've found very interesting and I've really liked." Um, ok. Is it that we know how to wrassle grizzlies barehanded? Or chop our own firewood? Or is it how hard our nipples get in the cold?
Somebody else walked over to me after Torts and asked if I used to be an engineer. She was a chemical engineer. I've been meaning to talk to her for a while - she looks like a nice, fun person to hang with, and she tried to start a conversation when I was studying with my schoolgirls yesterday. But I thought she was talking to them (it's the whole Black thing - and not everybody yet knows that I'm not really white, so they don't really talk to me unless I have an entrance like through the cool kids who asked me to study with them - and all the Black kids stick together here, and all the white kids, and all the Asian kids - it's weird - with some exceptions, of course, like me), but she said today she was talking to me yesterday.
See, I KNEW I was playing my cards right. I don't have to be all out there and gushy and personable - the people, they will come to me. I don't think I sound that great in class, but today it got me like five people starting conversations with me, so it works. And I'm the only person whose name my writing teacher remembered.
Like my student Ana Angel used to say, "Cool is on the inside." If people see it and they like me, that's fine. If they don't, that's fine.
Everything I need to know in life I didn't learn in kindergarten - I learned it from teaching 8th grade.
Yesterday my Contracts prof was dismayed that nobody was jumping up with their hands to answer questions - like we used to do two weeks ago. It's of course because his caustic humor makes us feel unsafe in the classroom. He's damn funny, but we're tired of going out on a limb. But, I will prepare now to the best of my ability, and try my best to answer at least three of his questions (he doesn't like it when I ask questions). He's not like my Civil Procedure prof, whom I realized today really knows how to work a room - he has gotten almost every person in there to volunteer answers, and he only makes fun of one kid who is considered the class joke - which is the best way to handle him because he likes to waste classtime on stupid things. My Torts prof, on the other hand, has gone too far in the other extreme - he's such a nice guy and would never disagree with somebody, that we never know what we're supposed to think is right and we go off on all sorts of circuitous paths. Though, I think he's getting better. And he likes me because I answer his questions lots when nobody else will.
OK, I'm procrastinating.
the things that worry me
1. There's a blind woman in my classes with a very cute (though food-obsessed) dog. I finally introduced myself to her earlier this week, when her dog kept looking at me like I was going to step on him. He and I had been eyeing each other for awhile - and I'd even been sneaking him pets sometimes while he was working, which I know I'm not supposed to do. I just saw them getting on the elevator and I never know - should I shout out to say hi and introduce myself and all that? If she's in the zone with figuring out where she's going and all that, it could be annoying. Clearly if we're standing in the same place or going the same way I'll say something, but if she's going one way and I the other, it just seems interrupting - I can't just do a quick wave, after all. But the dog, he knows me now, and he expects my greeting. He turned around to see me when he was getting into the elevator, expecting me. So then I don't feel invisible, and it makes me feel guilty.
2. How many calories are in Reese's PBC. But I'm sooo hungry! There is SUCH a cute guy in some of my classes, and he was down in the lounge when I bought my chocolate, but he was talking with other people. He seems like SUCH a nice guy, too. About young enough to be my child, but I can still admire his beauty. He's model-like hot.
3. Where I'll live. I need a new place. The landlord was only nice to me because I'm white - he's totally racist, and that's so not cool. I just can't forgive it, and don't want to contribute to his existence.
4. Should I go to the Clinton Library this weekend?
5. Should I go to Senegal in December?
6. Did Gail find pupusas yesterday after she called me?
7. My class grades are all based on one three-hour final exam which is objectively given (the prof can't know our names when we take it). So those charming insights I give in class, they will count for naught.
8. I'm not full of charming insights in these classes. Sometimes I listen to my classmates and I think, "Dang! How did they figure that out!?" I know a lot are "cheating" -- using commercial study aids and more experienced law students. But some are just plain smart. At least I'm fearless - I don't mind being wrong.
9. Will another hurricane hit? I was chatting it up with one of my smart classmates (they call each other "colleagues" but that's freakin pretentious) who evacuated last year and deferred enrollment until this year. She says she doesn't even think about it - they lost EVERYTHING last year, but she never thinks about the hurricanes coming back - hoping it was a once per 100 year occurrence.
10. Will I get all my reading for tomorrow done? Um, not if I keep on blogging and surfing for hotels and flights.
2. How many calories are in Reese's PBC. But I'm sooo hungry! There is SUCH a cute guy in some of my classes, and he was down in the lounge when I bought my chocolate, but he was talking with other people. He seems like SUCH a nice guy, too. About young enough to be my child, but I can still admire his beauty. He's model-like hot.
3. Where I'll live. I need a new place. The landlord was only nice to me because I'm white - he's totally racist, and that's so not cool. I just can't forgive it, and don't want to contribute to his existence.
4. Should I go to the Clinton Library this weekend?
5. Should I go to Senegal in December?
6. Did Gail find pupusas yesterday after she called me?
7. My class grades are all based on one three-hour final exam which is objectively given (the prof can't know our names when we take it). So those charming insights I give in class, they will count for naught.
8. I'm not full of charming insights in these classes. Sometimes I listen to my classmates and I think, "Dang! How did they figure that out!?" I know a lot are "cheating" -- using commercial study aids and more experienced law students. But some are just plain smart. At least I'm fearless - I don't mind being wrong.
9. Will another hurricane hit? I was chatting it up with one of my smart classmates (they call each other "colleagues" but that's freakin pretentious) who evacuated last year and deferred enrollment until this year. She says she doesn't even think about it - they lost EVERYTHING last year, but she never thinks about the hurricanes coming back - hoping it was a once per 100 year occurrence.
10. Will I get all my reading for tomorrow done? Um, not if I keep on blogging and surfing for hotels and flights.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
37 pounds
Who am I kidding? I'm not really reading about mens rea right now.
I gained 37 pounds in Dallas. Six on my person, and 31 from Ikea in my suitcase - bumping it just over the 50 pound limit, but the guy who checked me in was named Angel and he had a thick Haitian accent and he was tall and hot and maybe my swooning convinced him not to charge me extra.
Great time in Dallas, and the weather even greeted me cheerfully and coolly. This trip would be be called "Cheap Eats" because that's what we did. Only one meal was over $15 for us both (and that was Pho, which is supposed to be way cheap but I got some other stuff, and I think he charged me $5 every time I said "pho" trying to sound Vietnamese cool). There were also pupusas and pecan waffles and Swedish pancakes at Ikea. Also spent MUCH time at Ikea and REI. Sigh. Civilization.
Now I'm back, still trying to decide if I will go to Senegal for winter break. I had just made the decision to, and then prices jumped up $200. Sigh.
I've been on a cooking rage since I moved here - I think the huge pantry has me all excited still. There's like no kitchen work space, but there's that pantry, so I have six types of grains (four types of rice) and four types of beans and all sorts of yummy stuff that I keep cooking up like crazy. Last night was a tragic mistake of Casamance - I think I marinated the cod too long in Mexican limes. The Roommate ate a ton of it and will finish it tonight, but I spat it out. Blech. So today I went home for lunch and made a Turkish lentil-bulgur wheat-spinach-tomato soup that was Yummalicious! More food for Tami!
I gained 37 pounds in Dallas. Six on my person, and 31 from Ikea in my suitcase - bumping it just over the 50 pound limit, but the guy who checked me in was named Angel and he had a thick Haitian accent and he was tall and hot and maybe my swooning convinced him not to charge me extra.
Great time in Dallas, and the weather even greeted me cheerfully and coolly. This trip would be be called "Cheap Eats" because that's what we did. Only one meal was over $15 for us both (and that was Pho, which is supposed to be way cheap but I got some other stuff, and I think he charged me $5 every time I said "pho" trying to sound Vietnamese cool). There were also pupusas and pecan waffles and Swedish pancakes at Ikea. Also spent MUCH time at Ikea and REI. Sigh. Civilization.
Now I'm back, still trying to decide if I will go to Senegal for winter break. I had just made the decision to, and then prices jumped up $200. Sigh.
I've been on a cooking rage since I moved here - I think the huge pantry has me all excited still. There's like no kitchen work space, but there's that pantry, so I have six types of grains (four types of rice) and four types of beans and all sorts of yummy stuff that I keep cooking up like crazy. Last night was a tragic mistake of Casamance - I think I marinated the cod too long in Mexican limes. The Roommate ate a ton of it and will finish it tonight, but I spat it out. Blech. So today I went home for lunch and made a Turkish lentil-bulgur wheat-spinach-tomato soup that was Yummalicious! More food for Tami!
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