M is the new love of my life. He of course doesn't know it, will never know it, but I will look at him longingly as he sits in front of me in Contracts 2 Monday and Wednesday afternoons. I do love a well-groomed man especially when he's leaning back near my space.
He kept his word to me. It's those little things that count. He made me a stupid little promise and he remembered it. I recommend him for Man of the Year.
I don't remember that list of things that I said were most important in a man. Dayton has them mostly. But this, this keeping your word always no matter what, he doesn't have and he doesn't understand what I'm talking about.
It's at the top of my list now.
Though, I have to say, that well-groomed man thing is pretty far up there, too. We used to make such fun of Fred because it takes him FOREVER to get ready in the morning - like so many Liberian men - but it's because they look SO DAMN GOOD.
Where I grew up, men have scraggly beards and wear dirty CarHartt jackets and drive rusted-out trucks. It makes a man with that real close cut hair and clean clear lines - it makes my knees weak.
With this whole new bad attitude of mine, I sit in the back of the room and I see the backs of heads. White boys here, they got way scruffy necklines. All the girls have long hair, all the boys have hairy necks. It's a miserable view. How do these rich white kids have such bad hair when refugees can look so damn good?
But M, he sits there with that crisp line, keeping his promise to me, and I'm thinking there's hope for mankind. This younger generation, they've got some good ones.
Of course, I'm one of the scruffy white people - I haven't had a hair cut since ... I don't remember. A year? But once my head is healed, I'm off to an Aveda academy.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
... or this
"You are fabulous!"
That's what the person in charge of the pro bono stuff I'm working on just emailed me.
Why are strangers so much nicer to me than my boyfriend? Something's way effed up, and he is under ultimatum to fix it. I'm not seeing much fixing going on, so I must muster up resolve of steel. Sometimes, to quote a song I dislike rather strongly, love just ain't enough. That I love him, and that he loves me, is really not in question. Our compatibility, as he digs in his Leo heels of stubbornness, has become a flashing fluorescent question mark. So, if we're just going to keep making each other miserable, one of us has to be man enough to pull the plug. He's got two more weeks until the deadline, but seriously - if he blows off Valentine's Day, it's over. A girl has to have romantic standards, after all. I know that Valentine's Day is a stupid made-up holiday that I've never given a hoot about - but the man forgot my birthday. This is his chance to make it up.
Anyway, I'm already burned out and I barely just got into the swing of things. The thing is the meetings that are killing me - between meeting with profs and doctors and volunteering and all sorts of stuff, I'm overextended. I keep waiting for a free day, but then I waste it.
I'm getting more and more fond of the idea of a split summer - half in Liberia at an internship and half at a firm somewhere, anywhere. But, I must get those applications in! After I meet tomorrow with career counselor ... after a training ... after class ... before classes. Wednesdays are brutal, but I'm making other days brutal now, too.
The worst part of this pro bono work is that it costs me money - to drive there and to park. I could do it elsewhere, but I need a phone - and to use my crappy cell phone with bad sound is 10 cents a minute. Either way I'm paying. Plus, my apartment is the size of a FEMA trailer and I don't have space to lay out files and figure things out. But there's no place else for me to go - if I go to the library I can't talk on the phone, and I don't have access to another phone. I'm kinda screwed. So, I'm putting in my 30 hours of mandatory service and then I need to say I'm done, because I'm paying about $2/hour for the privilege of working for free. I'm learning lots and hopefully I'll get a good reference (calling me fabulous would be good), but I'm just not going to be a pro bono girl. I sympathize for the poor - but my primary goal will be to get this poor girl out of debt.
OK, and now I must do a writing project for tomorrow which will involve reading about 200 pages and writing about them. And I'm exhausted from a day of running about like a crazy woman. Oh, I am a crazy woman. Classes just seem harder this term - much more to do than last term. Or, my time management skills have drastically diminished.
That's what the person in charge of the pro bono stuff I'm working on just emailed me.
Why are strangers so much nicer to me than my boyfriend? Something's way effed up, and he is under ultimatum to fix it. I'm not seeing much fixing going on, so I must muster up resolve of steel. Sometimes, to quote a song I dislike rather strongly, love just ain't enough. That I love him, and that he loves me, is really not in question. Our compatibility, as he digs in his Leo heels of stubbornness, has become a flashing fluorescent question mark. So, if we're just going to keep making each other miserable, one of us has to be man enough to pull the plug. He's got two more weeks until the deadline, but seriously - if he blows off Valentine's Day, it's over. A girl has to have romantic standards, after all. I know that Valentine's Day is a stupid made-up holiday that I've never given a hoot about - but the man forgot my birthday. This is his chance to make it up.
Anyway, I'm already burned out and I barely just got into the swing of things. The thing is the meetings that are killing me - between meeting with profs and doctors and volunteering and all sorts of stuff, I'm overextended. I keep waiting for a free day, but then I waste it.
I'm getting more and more fond of the idea of a split summer - half in Liberia at an internship and half at a firm somewhere, anywhere. But, I must get those applications in! After I meet tomorrow with career counselor ... after a training ... after class ... before classes. Wednesdays are brutal, but I'm making other days brutal now, too.
The worst part of this pro bono work is that it costs me money - to drive there and to park. I could do it elsewhere, but I need a phone - and to use my crappy cell phone with bad sound is 10 cents a minute. Either way I'm paying. Plus, my apartment is the size of a FEMA trailer and I don't have space to lay out files and figure things out. But there's no place else for me to go - if I go to the library I can't talk on the phone, and I don't have access to another phone. I'm kinda screwed. So, I'm putting in my 30 hours of mandatory service and then I need to say I'm done, because I'm paying about $2/hour for the privilege of working for free. I'm learning lots and hopefully I'll get a good reference (calling me fabulous would be good), but I'm just not going to be a pro bono girl. I sympathize for the poor - but my primary goal will be to get this poor girl out of debt.
OK, and now I must do a writing project for tomorrow which will involve reading about 200 pages and writing about them. And I'm exhausted from a day of running about like a crazy woman. Oh, I am a crazy woman. Classes just seem harder this term - much more to do than last term. Or, my time management skills have drastically diminished.
Monday, January 29, 2007
conspiracy of nice
No longer may I call him Pompous Ass Professor. I have to call him nice guy, I guess. He just sent me a lovely email response to a rather curt one from me.
And I think he must really like my name - he uses it all the time, when I of course choose not to.
Sigh. The villian's mustache has been shaved.
And this after my legal profession prof tried to give me some sort of hug or something. Not really - but he did a patting with the wrong arm across my body which ended up like a hug. I just looked at him. This was after he said we have to go get coffee to have the right kind of conversation.
Um, ok?
And after I had to cough on my torts prof to get him to back the hell out of my space.
And my first female professor (all others are white males - go figure) who said "of course" we get to bring in the Uniform Commercial Code to the final - saving me unbearable memorization agony.
Is this a conspiracy of professors trying to be nice to me? What's with this?
Gone are the days of the dean, my fave, who said last week when he saw Ay and me looking at our exams, "Isn't that like ... eating your own vomit?" Why, yes it is. I love his caustic wit.
Are they nice to me because they think I'm weak and can't take it if they're asses?
And I think he must really like my name - he uses it all the time, when I of course choose not to.
Sigh. The villian's mustache has been shaved.
And this after my legal profession prof tried to give me some sort of hug or something. Not really - but he did a patting with the wrong arm across my body which ended up like a hug. I just looked at him. This was after he said we have to go get coffee to have the right kind of conversation.
Um, ok?
And after I had to cough on my torts prof to get him to back the hell out of my space.
And my first female professor (all others are white males - go figure) who said "of course" we get to bring in the Uniform Commercial Code to the final - saving me unbearable memorization agony.
Is this a conspiracy of professors trying to be nice to me? What's with this?
Gone are the days of the dean, my fave, who said last week when he saw Ay and me looking at our exams, "Isn't that like ... eating your own vomit?" Why, yes it is. I love his caustic wit.
Are they nice to me because they think I'm weak and can't take it if they're asses?
staring at my prof's crotch
J is this cool guy - I think I met him in Spanish class (which is where I meet all the best people. such as Lalo) and we instantly got along. He's funny and he's one of those people I can sit with and talk with forever - usually about stupid shit that makes us both laugh. I drag him into all sorts of things - got him doing the civil rights investigator stuff and Alianza stuff. He's not a stalker on his own, but I could so see training him as getaway driver. (Which leads me to another story I will spare you, which was me pathetically crying to a guy I would like very much if I were 16 years younger, "Please, don't let me down. I have so little to look forward to these days." We'll see if he lives up to his promise.)
Anyway, one day we were talking out in the hallway and one of my profs walks past. His movements are very Tai Chi-ish and he's so slim that he can't get clothes small enough to fit him - they are all melting off him, and I was always fearful that they would fall off and he would be there prancing about the room naked, telling us about case and controversy requirement from Article III - and how could I listen?
J tells me that they are frequently in the same men's restroom on the second floor, and he does the urinal stance for me (once again - so glad I'm not a boy!). He says this prof always hides himself from view, leaning forward and shielding his private self from view with his arms. J's theory is that Prof's "Amendment" is so huge that he doesn't want anybody to see.
How can I NOT stare at my prof's crotch all class period long, all three days a week? How?
I'm so afraid my final exam answer will be somehow a question about genitalia size.
Sigh. Take the middle school teacher out of the classroom, but you can never get the middle school classroom out of the former teacher. I used to think my kids who said things such as, "You're one of us," were speaking of ethnic solidarity. Now I realize - they were just calling me immature. And they were right.
Anyway, one day we were talking out in the hallway and one of my profs walks past. His movements are very Tai Chi-ish and he's so slim that he can't get clothes small enough to fit him - they are all melting off him, and I was always fearful that they would fall off and he would be there prancing about the room naked, telling us about case and controversy requirement from Article III - and how could I listen?
J tells me that they are frequently in the same men's restroom on the second floor, and he does the urinal stance for me (once again - so glad I'm not a boy!). He says this prof always hides himself from view, leaning forward and shielding his private self from view with his arms. J's theory is that Prof's "Amendment" is so huge that he doesn't want anybody to see.
How can I NOT stare at my prof's crotch all class period long, all three days a week? How?
I'm so afraid my final exam answer will be somehow a question about genitalia size.
Sigh. Take the middle school teacher out of the classroom, but you can never get the middle school classroom out of the former teacher. I used to think my kids who said things such as, "You're one of us," were speaking of ethnic solidarity. Now I realize - they were just calling me immature. And they were right.
this is how to get people to volunteer
First, I just wanted to donate some books. The ones that are good books, but only worth about 5 cents on Amazon.
So, I searched around, and saw reference to a public library book sale.
So, I emailed the Friends of the libraries.
The next thing I know I've volunteered to start helping out, and the president and I are emailing hot and heavy and the last thing he wrote was: "I cant wait to meet you!!!!!!!"
Now, I don't want to do a Jenny (that is, immediate and complete aversion to anybody that doesn't have immediate and complete aversion to me), but I gotta say - be a little harder to get.
On the other hand, there's something nice about that.
But why won't the woman at the post office call me "baby" like she does other people? Is it because she hates my big piles of books to mail? Or my lack of regional intonation? Sigh.
So, I went to see my Torts prof and the good news is that I didn't hurt him and won't be charged with battery or assault. The other good news is that I'm not far off in how I'm learning - I'm doing it mostly right. The bad news is, I just need to do it better. Memorize better, answer the questions better. More clearly. Screw the essays and nice wording - I need to write effing lists and boldface the important things. And keep my outline there with it to show professors what they're reading (now I flesh it out and erase it).
And he sat way too close to me. He brought his chair around to sit right next to me, and it was only a matter of minutes before I was literally leaning off the other side of my chair. Personal space, people, personal space. Here is my bubble, so back off. So, I coughed on him. He backed up.
Man, I just really don't think I can take the presidential election bullshit - I really, really hate this shit. There's NO WAY I'm getting a TV now until after November 4, 2008.
I wish we could trust all our candidates. I would be happy with Hilary or Obama or John (Edwards), but none of them will be up there. I just really, really, really don't want another Bush. And as much as I really appreciate Sam Brownback's support of refugees, he's way out there and won't make it far. The thing is, I don't know if it's better or worse that he's a religious zealot. On the one hand, I want to respect his convictions, and I do know (because "I've looked into his eyes" or whatever that dumb Bush quote is) that he means what he says and does. But I really disagree with pretty much all his views that aren't about refugees, and with him as fundamental as he is I don't think we could find common ground. And I find common ground with most people who aren't idiot Torts professors.
It's like when I typed about Amy that she'd never vote for anybody who has an R after the name, Tami told me she's exactly the opposite - would never vote for anybody who has a D after their name.
If all the people that I have conversations with were in a room together trying to have a conversation, there would be bloodshed. So let us just be grateful that no blood was flowing from my Torts prof when I walked out.
So, I searched around, and saw reference to a public library book sale.
So, I emailed the Friends of the libraries.
The next thing I know I've volunteered to start helping out, and the president and I are emailing hot and heavy and the last thing he wrote was: "I cant wait to meet you!!!!!!!"
Now, I don't want to do a Jenny (that is, immediate and complete aversion to anybody that doesn't have immediate and complete aversion to me), but I gotta say - be a little harder to get.
On the other hand, there's something nice about that.
But why won't the woman at the post office call me "baby" like she does other people? Is it because she hates my big piles of books to mail? Or my lack of regional intonation? Sigh.
So, I went to see my Torts prof and the good news is that I didn't hurt him and won't be charged with battery or assault. The other good news is that I'm not far off in how I'm learning - I'm doing it mostly right. The bad news is, I just need to do it better. Memorize better, answer the questions better. More clearly. Screw the essays and nice wording - I need to write effing lists and boldface the important things. And keep my outline there with it to show professors what they're reading (now I flesh it out and erase it).
And he sat way too close to me. He brought his chair around to sit right next to me, and it was only a matter of minutes before I was literally leaning off the other side of my chair. Personal space, people, personal space. Here is my bubble, so back off. So, I coughed on him. He backed up.
Man, I just really don't think I can take the presidential election bullshit - I really, really hate this shit. There's NO WAY I'm getting a TV now until after November 4, 2008.
I wish we could trust all our candidates. I would be happy with Hilary or Obama or John (Edwards), but none of them will be up there. I just really, really, really don't want another Bush. And as much as I really appreciate Sam Brownback's support of refugees, he's way out there and won't make it far. The thing is, I don't know if it's better or worse that he's a religious zealot. On the one hand, I want to respect his convictions, and I do know (because "I've looked into his eyes" or whatever that dumb Bush quote is) that he means what he says and does. But I really disagree with pretty much all his views that aren't about refugees, and with him as fundamental as he is I don't think we could find common ground. And I find common ground with most people who aren't idiot Torts professors.
It's like when I typed about Amy that she'd never vote for anybody who has an R after the name, Tami told me she's exactly the opposite - would never vote for anybody who has a D after their name.
If all the people that I have conversations with were in a room together trying to have a conversation, there would be bloodshed. So let us just be grateful that no blood was flowing from my Torts prof when I walked out.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Amazon 'ho
Just hit $700.08 of book sales. Have another pile on my table to mail tomorrow (man I'm tired of wrapping books!) but am pretty much out of the money books, and now I have to actually read my way through before I can list more.
I am having interesting chats with myself about them. And why on earth have I been clinging to Dialectic of Enlightenment since before Selma was born? She'll be 13 this year! Some others like that, Kristeva and other Lit Crit, are the last vestiges of a life long, long ago. The ed books I'm closer to, and I've started adding little notes when I send some of them off. "Hope you enjoy. I loved this book!"
Wow, I'm pathetic.
But $700 is more than half a trip to Africa, and almost a month's rent. This is not a minor amount of money to me. And, fewer boxes to move, which means it's more likely for the friendship of me and Ahmed to stay intact.
It's not like this is the first time I've done this - it seems I purge my books every few years. But this time is different - I'm heartless with cutting out the dead dialectics. I still keep the books of sentimental value that I probably won't be able to get again - the book with a chapter about my friend Andy, my favorite Finnish poet, and a book by Selma's namesake. (Susan told me she met a woman who asked the names of the dogs and when she said Otter and Selma the woman said jokingly, "Oh, like Selma Lagerlof?" and Susan cried, "Yes! Yes! You are the first person to ever know that!") (Contrast that with K who equates it to Selma, Alabama, her absolute least favorite place on the planet.)
My poor books - I know they're trembling with trepidation, so afraid of the future. But, others will love them.
I am having interesting chats with myself about them. And why on earth have I been clinging to Dialectic of Enlightenment since before Selma was born? She'll be 13 this year! Some others like that, Kristeva and other Lit Crit, are the last vestiges of a life long, long ago. The ed books I'm closer to, and I've started adding little notes when I send some of them off. "Hope you enjoy. I loved this book!"
Wow, I'm pathetic.
But $700 is more than half a trip to Africa, and almost a month's rent. This is not a minor amount of money to me. And, fewer boxes to move, which means it's more likely for the friendship of me and Ahmed to stay intact.
It's not like this is the first time I've done this - it seems I purge my books every few years. But this time is different - I'm heartless with cutting out the dead dialectics. I still keep the books of sentimental value that I probably won't be able to get again - the book with a chapter about my friend Andy, my favorite Finnish poet, and a book by Selma's namesake. (Susan told me she met a woman who asked the names of the dogs and when she said Otter and Selma the woman said jokingly, "Oh, like Selma Lagerlof?" and Susan cried, "Yes! Yes! You are the first person to ever know that!") (Contrast that with K who equates it to Selma, Alabama, her absolute least favorite place on the planet.)
My poor books - I know they're trembling with trepidation, so afraid of the future. But, others will love them.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
good news at the crack of dawn
The house closest to me - the black mold spa, the vermin hostel - will be sold on Tuesday and they hope to be finished with demolition by end of February to start construction next year.
I think the guy might have brain damage - he kept repeating himself and not real keen to social cues. But he started with "Hello, Friend," and he's very friendly indeed.
So eyesore and odor will be gone, which is very exciting indeed - and hopefully demo doesn't take place during finals.
Less good news is that the rain has returned - giant puddles everywhere. I can't drive in this rain - I'm not the safest driver to begin with. I planned to go out to Slidell today to do shopping and see Tami & co. and eat and two of my favorite places (I'd hoped to go early enough for lunch at Waffle House, shop and study, then dinner at Amigos) - but this rain is not appealing.
I'm in a funk, but I think it's not the rain.
I'm spending the best hours of my life waiting in line at the post office. I just have to keep reminding myself that selling my books is a good thing, a good thing.
I think the guy might have brain damage - he kept repeating himself and not real keen to social cues. But he started with "Hello, Friend," and he's very friendly indeed.
So eyesore and odor will be gone, which is very exciting indeed - and hopefully demo doesn't take place during finals.
Less good news is that the rain has returned - giant puddles everywhere. I can't drive in this rain - I'm not the safest driver to begin with. I planned to go out to Slidell today to do shopping and see Tami & co. and eat and two of my favorite places (I'd hoped to go early enough for lunch at Waffle House, shop and study, then dinner at Amigos) - but this rain is not appealing.
I'm in a funk, but I think it's not the rain.
I'm spending the best hours of my life waiting in line at the post office. I just have to keep reminding myself that selling my books is a good thing, a good thing.
Friday, January 26, 2007
grumpy old lady
A couple LLM students asked me to join them on a girls' night out tonight and my very first thought was: "How do I get out of this?"
Mind you, I like them. And because they're LLM (Masters) they're a bit older than the regular law students. But, I'm just not up for it, and not just because I have a nasty cough with my cold. It's not that I'm ageist - it's that I know that their fun activities are different than mine. And in a group, the silliness, and shortest skirt, wins. I would probably have a fun time and I'd be glad I went, but it sounds like so much energy.
I don't socialize with my classmates - that's my rule. I think it's for the best for everybody. I don't want to get in that space where I'm not having a good time and I'm stuck, and then my watching becomes glowering.
And I don't want to see any of my classmates drunk. Drinking is the major pasttime for most, and I don't want it. Two classmates in one day told me their goal is to move west and find a lawfirm whose recreational activities include kayaking rather than shots. Apparently those firms are hard to find. Shrug. The career development office and everybody says it's so important to socialize and make connections and drink along, but I ain't playing that game. If a law firm wants to hire me because I dance on tables when drinking, then I shouldn't work for them. If they don't want to hire me because I prefer a good night's sleep over a night at a bar, then they need to look onwards.
At 22, I drank heavily sometimes too. I hit my peak at about 18 with alcohol abuse, and enough black outs and puking nights and hangovers lasting days made me think it's not so much fun after all. And I'm not real good with just a little - my tolerance is all screwy, so just a couple give me a hard drunk too sometimes - but sometimes it doesn't, and I can never tell if I'll be unaffected, lightly buzzed, or dancing on tables (or with lamps). And I really don't like to guess at all if I'm driving - which is always the case in this country.
I need another day to this weekend - not enough time to do all I want/need. I totally want to skip class, but I'm afraid of not getting something important. My Legal Profession class at 8:30 on Monday and WEdnesdays is a TOTAL yawn. How do I know? Because he keeps telling us how important it is. Show, don't tell! And there's a class of 150 but he insists we all email him anytime we're missing. Why? There's no good reason. We're adults - most are 2Ls and 3Ls who already have jobs. This is a waste of time for us all. He actually spent 20 minutes on Monday checking that our seating chart is correct and people hadn't moved. He's the brilliant one who had us do the seating chart before we didn't have class for another 12 days - of course people forgot.
Whatev. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
Mind you, I like them. And because they're LLM (Masters) they're a bit older than the regular law students. But, I'm just not up for it, and not just because I have a nasty cough with my cold. It's not that I'm ageist - it's that I know that their fun activities are different than mine. And in a group, the silliness, and shortest skirt, wins. I would probably have a fun time and I'd be glad I went, but it sounds like so much energy.
I don't socialize with my classmates - that's my rule. I think it's for the best for everybody. I don't want to get in that space where I'm not having a good time and I'm stuck, and then my watching becomes glowering.
And I don't want to see any of my classmates drunk. Drinking is the major pasttime for most, and I don't want it. Two classmates in one day told me their goal is to move west and find a lawfirm whose recreational activities include kayaking rather than shots. Apparently those firms are hard to find. Shrug. The career development office and everybody says it's so important to socialize and make connections and drink along, but I ain't playing that game. If a law firm wants to hire me because I dance on tables when drinking, then I shouldn't work for them. If they don't want to hire me because I prefer a good night's sleep over a night at a bar, then they need to look onwards.
At 22, I drank heavily sometimes too. I hit my peak at about 18 with alcohol abuse, and enough black outs and puking nights and hangovers lasting days made me think it's not so much fun after all. And I'm not real good with just a little - my tolerance is all screwy, so just a couple give me a hard drunk too sometimes - but sometimes it doesn't, and I can never tell if I'll be unaffected, lightly buzzed, or dancing on tables (or with lamps). And I really don't like to guess at all if I'm driving - which is always the case in this country.
I need another day to this weekend - not enough time to do all I want/need. I totally want to skip class, but I'm afraid of not getting something important. My Legal Profession class at 8:30 on Monday and WEdnesdays is a TOTAL yawn. How do I know? Because he keeps telling us how important it is. Show, don't tell! And there's a class of 150 but he insists we all email him anytime we're missing. Why? There's no good reason. We're adults - most are 2Ls and 3Ls who already have jobs. This is a waste of time for us all. He actually spent 20 minutes on Monday checking that our seating chart is correct and people hadn't moved. He's the brilliant one who had us do the seating chart before we didn't have class for another 12 days - of course people forgot.
Whatev. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
one point
For my A-, my only almost-good grade, if I had gotten one point less it would have been a B+.
Kind of kills the joy.
I convinced M, the A boy, to study with me. Maybe it'll rub off on me. But, I hope his two divorces don't rub off on me. I want the good grades without the marital failures.
I did also see how almost arbitrary the whole grading thing is, and how every stupid little point matters. You have to bring up everything and say it well and thoroughly. It's effing stressful and so unreal, to have EVERYTHING ride on that three-hour exam.
But, I guess that's because that's what it's like in court.
The thing is, I don't want to do litigation. I want to do contracts and that sort of thing. Less stress, no performance.
Shrug. The prof said he'd give me a good recommendation, AND he promised me today he won't retire before I finish law school (and he's already 72 years old). He's not a great prof, but he knows freakin everybody in maritime law, and his connections are worth gold. He gave me names today and told me to drop his name.
OK, so I see how I could have done better - and a lot of it is that I needed to be better prepared some (though, I did memorize the entire Model Penal Code in about 24 hours, though I wish I had done it the 14 weeks before that). I'm here and I need to stop dragging my feet - I need to really jump in and do my best by their standards.
But not tonight.
Kind of kills the joy.
I convinced M, the A boy, to study with me. Maybe it'll rub off on me. But, I hope his two divorces don't rub off on me. I want the good grades without the marital failures.
I did also see how almost arbitrary the whole grading thing is, and how every stupid little point matters. You have to bring up everything and say it well and thoroughly. It's effing stressful and so unreal, to have EVERYTHING ride on that three-hour exam.
But, I guess that's because that's what it's like in court.
The thing is, I don't want to do litigation. I want to do contracts and that sort of thing. Less stress, no performance.
Shrug. The prof said he'd give me a good recommendation, AND he promised me today he won't retire before I finish law school (and he's already 72 years old). He's not a great prof, but he knows freakin everybody in maritime law, and his connections are worth gold. He gave me names today and told me to drop his name.
OK, so I see how I could have done better - and a lot of it is that I needed to be better prepared some (though, I did memorize the entire Model Penal Code in about 24 hours, though I wish I had done it the 14 weeks before that). I'm here and I need to stop dragging my feet - I need to really jump in and do my best by their standards.
But not tonight.
sweet email
"Your pap smear done on 01/18/07 was normal ; please repeat your pap in one year"
Last year I had one of the dangerous HPVs, one of the ones that causes cervical cancer. But apparently we can rid ourselves of HPVs and it doesn't always lead to cancer - so this pap news is very good news.
Last year I had one of the dangerous HPVs, one of the ones that causes cervical cancer. But apparently we can rid ourselves of HPVs and it doesn't always lead to cancer - so this pap news is very good news.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I heart capitalism
31 books sold, 47 open listings.
Hm, maybe I'm not very strategic in my postings - maybe I could make more money. But when I order, I always order the cheapest at the condition I need. So, I'm selling cheapest.
I'm halfway to a trip to Africa. I won't even think of the thousands of dollars I spent to get me to $547. But, they were all books that I learned from so I should not spite them.
Oh - two more just sold. Back to wrapping little book packlets. I should be studying but ... I'm not. Enough said.
Hm, maybe I'm not very strategic in my postings - maybe I could make more money. But when I order, I always order the cheapest at the condition I need. So, I'm selling cheapest.
I'm halfway to a trip to Africa. I won't even think of the thousands of dollars I spent to get me to $547. But, they were all books that I learned from so I should not spite them.
Oh - two more just sold. Back to wrapping little book packlets. I should be studying but ... I'm not. Enough said.
life here
How do I know I live in the South?
I'm addicted to biscuits. Can't get enough. All I want.
Biscuits, mmmm, good.
I'm addicted to biscuits. Can't get enough. All I want.
Biscuits, mmmm, good.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
I will not email in the middle of the night
Oh, and I forgot the most annoying part of Pompous Ass Professor. When he was grilling me he asked about - I don't remember what, but I said there appear to be two issues in conflict and then said them both. He picked up the first one and hammered on it blah blah blah. Then he said, "You said there were two issues. What is the other one?"
Is this a trick question? I already said it. I stared at him.
"Did you forget?" "Yes, I forgot," I said. Liar. I am JUST like my former students. "OK, well when you think of it in the middle of the night, get up and shoot me an email."
WTF? I'm not getting out of my cozy bed to email PAP. I'm not thinking about him at all outside class ... oh wait, he won that battle. And I am exactly the person who typically emails profs in the middle of the night. Maybe my reputation precedes me already - maybe that's how he knows my name. (I sure hope not.) But I sure as hell am not giving him that satisfaction.
But the lying was good - I made a phone call for Civil Rights Investigation. I am married and a secretary and all sorts of great stuff. She liked me and I'll go look at it as soon as she's back in town. I just can't wait for the day when I get to testify against these racist slumlords.
Is this a trick question? I already said it. I stared at him.
"Did you forget?" "Yes, I forgot," I said. Liar. I am JUST like my former students. "OK, well when you think of it in the middle of the night, get up and shoot me an email."
WTF? I'm not getting out of my cozy bed to email PAP. I'm not thinking about him at all outside class ... oh wait, he won that battle. And I am exactly the person who typically emails profs in the middle of the night. Maybe my reputation precedes me already - maybe that's how he knows my name. (I sure hope not.) But I sure as hell am not giving him that satisfaction.
But the lying was good - I made a phone call for Civil Rights Investigation. I am married and a secretary and all sorts of great stuff. She liked me and I'll go look at it as soon as she's back in town. I just can't wait for the day when I get to testify against these racist slumlords.
choices, choices
Do I:
a) go back to school tonight, in the cold and dark, to read 12 pages of Legal Profession?
b) go to school at 7:30 tomorrow morning to get it done before class?
c) blow it off entirely and drag myself in at 8:30 utterly unprepared?
These are my dilemmas when I leave my books at school. I don't like leaving them there, but I like the backpain even less when I try to carry them. They are huge.
Taking my computer to school adds an element of interest to my classes - I can totally ignore the professor and my classmates and read Liberian Marine news, check airfare, email, etc. I am really, really bad - but I knew I would be. I am still taking copious notes, but sometimes I think, "Huh? What was that?" but oh well. Before my mind used to wander anyway.
Unfortunately, I can also listen with one ear. So when Property Prof (the pompous ass) asked about a case today, I nodded my head. This was as I was mapquesting where I'm going in a couple minutes. Just a nod. There was an instant calling of my first name, and I looked up to see him looking up my last name on the seating chart.
He knows my name? ARGH!! I am so screwed - and I never listen to him or the class - it's way boring and he doesn't give blackline rules, it's all, "Oh, that's interesting," but usually more often just ridiculing people's positions without telling us what's right. And I did read the case, but over a week ago and I don't remember it. And sometimes he words questions strangely so I said straight out several times in our little exchange, "I don't know how to answer that question. What do you want me to say?" I gave attitude. Again. I don't feel well and I don't like him and shoot me already for nodding.
I'm so over being the nice student and helping out the prof. Just leave me the hell alone and let me be invisible.
a) go back to school tonight, in the cold and dark, to read 12 pages of Legal Profession?
b) go to school at 7:30 tomorrow morning to get it done before class?
c) blow it off entirely and drag myself in at 8:30 utterly unprepared?
These are my dilemmas when I leave my books at school. I don't like leaving them there, but I like the backpain even less when I try to carry them. They are huge.
Taking my computer to school adds an element of interest to my classes - I can totally ignore the professor and my classmates and read Liberian Marine news, check airfare, email, etc. I am really, really bad - but I knew I would be. I am still taking copious notes, but sometimes I think, "Huh? What was that?" but oh well. Before my mind used to wander anyway.
Unfortunately, I can also listen with one ear. So when Property Prof (the pompous ass) asked about a case today, I nodded my head. This was as I was mapquesting where I'm going in a couple minutes. Just a nod. There was an instant calling of my first name, and I looked up to see him looking up my last name on the seating chart.
He knows my name? ARGH!! I am so screwed - and I never listen to him or the class - it's way boring and he doesn't give blackline rules, it's all, "Oh, that's interesting," but usually more often just ridiculing people's positions without telling us what's right. And I did read the case, but over a week ago and I don't remember it. And sometimes he words questions strangely so I said straight out several times in our little exchange, "I don't know how to answer that question. What do you want me to say?" I gave attitude. Again. I don't feel well and I don't like him and shoot me already for nodding.
I'm so over being the nice student and helping out the prof. Just leave me the hell alone and let me be invisible.
Monday, January 22, 2007
student loans
You know, student loans are a pretty glorious thing. Without them I never would have been able to go to school. Sure, I think university education should be free in the US, but it's not. And students loans are very helpful.
I still owed on my undergrad when I had to borrow a lot to complete my teaching certificate program. But my masters and PhD work - I wrote a check for all that tuition, while I was plugging away at paying off my student loans.
And I did. When I sold my house, I paid off the last ones. A few thousand had been forgiven because of teaching in challenge schools in California, but mostly I just worked a lot and paid them off.
Today I got a familiar envelope in the mail from Sallie Mae. Sallie and me, we're jolly good friends. And she offered to lower my interest rate 2.4% if I do certain things for her.
That's lowering 2.4% on a loan for so far exactly $42,000. Yes, blog fans, I'm already in debt $42,000. If I were to quit law school now (which more than a couple have done), it would take me years to pay it off as a teacher. If I were to teach in Louisiana, it would take me decades.
Mind you, I have a scholarship for $7500 per year. It's not the big-ass scholarships that my friends all got, but I didn't expect any money, applying as I did just a couple months before school started. And that scholarship is not currently in jeopardy, thank you Professor Crim Law.
By the way, my GPA is just below 33%. So, am I, say, a 36%er?
Oh, and I had surgery on my head today. Um, sort of. Minor surgery to remove sebaceous cysts from my scalp. She was a way nice doctor and explained every single thing she was doing, but honestly I don't really want to know when the scalpel is slicing into my head and when there are loads of fluid flowing right out and that the sac is like a grape.
And I'm feeling a little over Amazon now. Yeah, I know, the love affair was short and I still have piles of books. But it's starting to annoy me, the constant attention. And I'm running out of paper bags to wrap them in.
I still owed on my undergrad when I had to borrow a lot to complete my teaching certificate program. But my masters and PhD work - I wrote a check for all that tuition, while I was plugging away at paying off my student loans.
And I did. When I sold my house, I paid off the last ones. A few thousand had been forgiven because of teaching in challenge schools in California, but mostly I just worked a lot and paid them off.
Today I got a familiar envelope in the mail from Sallie Mae. Sallie and me, we're jolly good friends. And she offered to lower my interest rate 2.4% if I do certain things for her.
That's lowering 2.4% on a loan for so far exactly $42,000. Yes, blog fans, I'm already in debt $42,000. If I were to quit law school now (which more than a couple have done), it would take me years to pay it off as a teacher. If I were to teach in Louisiana, it would take me decades.
Mind you, I have a scholarship for $7500 per year. It's not the big-ass scholarships that my friends all got, but I didn't expect any money, applying as I did just a couple months before school started. And that scholarship is not currently in jeopardy, thank you Professor Crim Law.
By the way, my GPA is just below 33%. So, am I, say, a 36%er?
Oh, and I had surgery on my head today. Um, sort of. Minor surgery to remove sebaceous cysts from my scalp. She was a way nice doctor and explained every single thing she was doing, but honestly I don't really want to know when the scalpel is slicing into my head and when there are loads of fluid flowing right out and that the sac is like a grape.
And I'm feeling a little over Amazon now. Yeah, I know, the love affair was short and I still have piles of books. But it's starting to annoy me, the constant attention. And I'm running out of paper bags to wrap them in.
FINALLY
I got my Crim Law grade.
And I kept visualizing it as a C, because that's what Ay got and we studied together. So then I would force a visualization as an A-.
It's an A-. So, finally, an A of some sort. So, my GPA is 3.214. Unfortunately I did best in the 3 credit classes and straight B's in the 4 credit classes, so my class ranking is definitely not great - but we won't know it until the end of the year. And, as David said today, "I'm freely admitting, I'm not longer in the running for law review."
OK, that A- helps me a little bit with motivation. But how ironic is it that the class I least liked, and the only class I ever missed, is my only ok grade? Is that a sign to push me into war crimes tribunals? Hm.
K was being a border collie last night, trying to get us all (me and Ay) to study together every day, to be accountable to each other. And I was real noncommittal because I'm not a good social studier and I waste so much time if I'm with other people. (Hm, maybe that's why I like K so much - she reminds me of Selma. I'd never tell her that, but those of you who know Selma know what I mean - she's little but tough, she's smart and likes everybody doing what they need to do, she's bossy but in a way that people don't feel bossed around, she's funny and energetic).
But then I realized, it's good for her, and she needs it. She's been skipping class for the past week and a half, which is NOT usual. She's way bumming about her grades and wondering if she'll stay (she has a full scholarship which she'll lose if her grades don't improve significantly).
And my lack of focus and work can't get any worse than it is right now. So, that's the new plan.
But right now, I'll wrap up some more books to ship. I did post some for less than my time is worth ($5 if that was the going rate) because I want them gone. So of course those are going first, but as the pile diminishes in size, the more content I feel.
And I kept visualizing it as a C, because that's what Ay got and we studied together. So then I would force a visualization as an A-.
It's an A-. So, finally, an A of some sort. So, my GPA is 3.214. Unfortunately I did best in the 3 credit classes and straight B's in the 4 credit classes, so my class ranking is definitely not great - but we won't know it until the end of the year. And, as David said today, "I'm freely admitting, I'm not longer in the running for law review."
OK, that A- helps me a little bit with motivation. But how ironic is it that the class I least liked, and the only class I ever missed, is my only ok grade? Is that a sign to push me into war crimes tribunals? Hm.
K was being a border collie last night, trying to get us all (me and Ay) to study together every day, to be accountable to each other. And I was real noncommittal because I'm not a good social studier and I waste so much time if I'm with other people. (Hm, maybe that's why I like K so much - she reminds me of Selma. I'd never tell her that, but those of you who know Selma know what I mean - she's little but tough, she's smart and likes everybody doing what they need to do, she's bossy but in a way that people don't feel bossed around, she's funny and energetic).
But then I realized, it's good for her, and she needs it. She's been skipping class for the past week and a half, which is NOT usual. She's way bumming about her grades and wondering if she'll stay (she has a full scholarship which she'll lose if her grades don't improve significantly).
And my lack of focus and work can't get any worse than it is right now. So, that's the new plan.
But right now, I'll wrap up some more books to ship. I did post some for less than my time is worth ($5 if that was the going rate) because I want them gone. So of course those are going first, but as the pile diminishes in size, the more content I feel.
cultures of Louisiana
Now it's not just Jen's delusions that I get on board with - now, cats are stalking me. Sometimes cats come and peer in at me through the bottom of the door window, below where the shade reaches. But the worst was last night - a cat is apparently stuck under the house or something and it's crying and crying. It kept me up and I'm way grumpy. Liberians tell me Ghanaians eat cats, and I don't know if that's true, but I'm about to find some recipes and an inhumane trap.
Last night was way informative to me in ways that will take time to sink in. I've had Black friends before, but this is different somehow. K was starting to say, "All those white kids who -" she stopped and turned when she saw Ay's in-laws look at me uncomfortably. "You know I don't mean you. You're one of us, not one of them."
We ate gumbo (with the best okra I've ever had - usually I don't like it, but Ay's mother-in-law cooked it great), red beans and rice, jambalaya, and cake. That is like the "New Orleans sampler" plate - and people actually eat that all the time. And it was damn good.
After the awesome assortment of seasonings, maybe it was the movies that made me realize race isn't just skin deep. There were the Friday movies, Chris Rock, Soul Food, and a bunch of documentaries on the African diaspora. The Friday movies, I was informed, are the sign of a "a black heart." African-American status is revoked if one does not have a true love for the Friday movies.
And, I got all up in Ay's sister-in-law's face for a homophobic comment. I'm all about observation in new settings, watching to see how best to act. But I just could not let that go, and once she refused to back down I let out all the stops. What finally got her was the translation issue about the Bible and how scholars differ on the actual meanings of things. Thanks to K for backing me up with, "If it ain't in the Ten Commandments or 'Love thy neighbor' then there are different interpretations. And where in the Ten Commandments does it say 'Thou shalt not be gay?'"
It was a lot like church there while the Saints were playing, with Ay's mother-in-law's, "Thank you Jesus!" and "Y'all can do it! I'm here prayin for ya! Dear Lord ..."
I don't report it well - it's that these things that I can portray as stock types are much richer and fuller than that - and there are significant differences in our range of experiences and expressions. K and Ay are both very fluent in "White America" and can codeswitch with great facility, which means that I can easily underplay our differences.
And this is exactly what happens on an institutional level. The assumption, and resulting forcible hegemonization, that differences are only skin deep. They're not, and to deny actual real cultural differences is to invalidate the experience of those outside the majority.
Of course I'm preaching to the choir here. All of my close friends (who would have access here) are or have been or are products of inter-ethnic relationships. But K would never date a white guy, and I'm pretty sure the same is true of Ay and all her family members. K and I have the beginnings of a soulmate friendship, but she describes me as her "white friend" because I'm the only one. And she loves to tell the story about why we're friends - the first time we talked, I made a comment about, "Man, there are a lot of white people here - what's with that?" and she knew she loved me.
I'm incredibly fortunate that I feel as comfortable in all these different situations - with Tami & Ahmed at their friends' Melissa and Bobby's (where I had both Palestinian and white Louisianan hospitality) and here at Ayanna's with her in-laws (if they ever forgive me for being pro-gay). I like the South. But Norm was definitely cautious of me, though he said a few things that made me think, Wow, he's great. He was shocked when his mother said she would vote Republican to get Blanco out of office, asking if it was racism or sexism or both at play.
I will definitely have to do more investigation - especially where there's food involved. :)
Last night was way informative to me in ways that will take time to sink in. I've had Black friends before, but this is different somehow. K was starting to say, "All those white kids who -" she stopped and turned when she saw Ay's in-laws look at me uncomfortably. "You know I don't mean you. You're one of us, not one of them."
We ate gumbo (with the best okra I've ever had - usually I don't like it, but Ay's mother-in-law cooked it great), red beans and rice, jambalaya, and cake. That is like the "New Orleans sampler" plate - and people actually eat that all the time. And it was damn good.
After the awesome assortment of seasonings, maybe it was the movies that made me realize race isn't just skin deep. There were the Friday movies, Chris Rock, Soul Food, and a bunch of documentaries on the African diaspora. The Friday movies, I was informed, are the sign of a "a black heart." African-American status is revoked if one does not have a true love for the Friday movies.
And, I got all up in Ay's sister-in-law's face for a homophobic comment. I'm all about observation in new settings, watching to see how best to act. But I just could not let that go, and once she refused to back down I let out all the stops. What finally got her was the translation issue about the Bible and how scholars differ on the actual meanings of things. Thanks to K for backing me up with, "If it ain't in the Ten Commandments or 'Love thy neighbor' then there are different interpretations. And where in the Ten Commandments does it say 'Thou shalt not be gay?'"
It was a lot like church there while the Saints were playing, with Ay's mother-in-law's, "Thank you Jesus!" and "Y'all can do it! I'm here prayin for ya! Dear Lord ..."
I don't report it well - it's that these things that I can portray as stock types are much richer and fuller than that - and there are significant differences in our range of experiences and expressions. K and Ay are both very fluent in "White America" and can codeswitch with great facility, which means that I can easily underplay our differences.
And this is exactly what happens on an institutional level. The assumption, and resulting forcible hegemonization, that differences are only skin deep. They're not, and to deny actual real cultural differences is to invalidate the experience of those outside the majority.
Of course I'm preaching to the choir here. All of my close friends (who would have access here) are or have been or are products of inter-ethnic relationships. But K would never date a white guy, and I'm pretty sure the same is true of Ay and all her family members. K and I have the beginnings of a soulmate friendship, but she describes me as her "white friend" because I'm the only one. And she loves to tell the story about why we're friends - the first time we talked, I made a comment about, "Man, there are a lot of white people here - what's with that?" and she knew she loved me.
I'm incredibly fortunate that I feel as comfortable in all these different situations - with Tami & Ahmed at their friends' Melissa and Bobby's (where I had both Palestinian and white Louisianan hospitality) and here at Ayanna's with her in-laws (if they ever forgive me for being pro-gay). I like the South. But Norm was definitely cautious of me, though he said a few things that made me think, Wow, he's great. He was shocked when his mother said she would vote Republican to get Blanco out of office, asking if it was racism or sexism or both at play.
I will definitely have to do more investigation - especially where there's food involved. :)
Sunday, January 21, 2007
sad day
But, the Saints have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. They had a great season and now they know what winning feels like. It was just bad luck they had to play in snowfall in Chicago - nobody unaccustomed to it can catch and throw properly in that cold. And Reggie Bush did a beautiful touchdown and we saw some nice Deuce, so I'm not suicidal.
And I met more nice Metairie people. They tell me houses in their area sell for like $70,000. The mortgage on that, for a three-bedroom house, is less than I pay for rent now. I just so want to own a house again! Ayanna's mother, who was there, has said she will move back once Ay and Norm (who actually would talk Liberian politics with me) have children to watch them (they're getting married this summer) and I was like hey now - what about my kids too? She's great and I would so trust her with my (nonexistent) children. (I'm not jumping ahead of myself - of course I don't have children. But the gynecologist who is due in two weeks said I'll get pregnant within months of wanting to, no worries, so I trust her.) (If Dayton pulls his head out of his ass.)
And, three more books sold, for $40. I'm so into selling everything I own now. Except of course that I don't really own anything of value - so, I'll stick with books. If I sold all the books I own, it would pay for a trip to Africa. And, additionally - much less crap to pack and move next time. And, I'm getting rid of old tape. Which may sound weird to people, but trust me, it's a good thing.
And, I didn't do laundry this weekend, so the next couple days until I can go to the laundromat will be an interesting fashion statement.
And I met more nice Metairie people. They tell me houses in their area sell for like $70,000. The mortgage on that, for a three-bedroom house, is less than I pay for rent now. I just so want to own a house again! Ayanna's mother, who was there, has said she will move back once Ay and Norm (who actually would talk Liberian politics with me) have children to watch them (they're getting married this summer) and I was like hey now - what about my kids too? She's great and I would so trust her with my (nonexistent) children. (I'm not jumping ahead of myself - of course I don't have children. But the gynecologist who is due in two weeks said I'll get pregnant within months of wanting to, no worries, so I trust her.) (If Dayton pulls his head out of his ass.)
And, three more books sold, for $40. I'm so into selling everything I own now. Except of course that I don't really own anything of value - so, I'll stick with books. If I sold all the books I own, it would pay for a trip to Africa. And, additionally - much less crap to pack and move next time. And, I'm getting rid of old tape. Which may sound weird to people, but trust me, it's a good thing.
And, I didn't do laundry this weekend, so the next couple days until I can go to the laundromat will be an interesting fashion statement.
Amazon crack
Who knew it could be so much fun to sell all my worldly possessions, especially while putting off schoolwork? OK, mostly it's just books from education PhD. I got through one of the two boxes in my closet because I am officially declaring NO GOING BACK. Not that I ever planned to, but now I'm making it official.
So I have about 35 books listed on Amazon, already sold three - damn life is grand. See, there's a post office thing on campus on my way to class, so it's no big deal to take care of all that. I do probably need to start doing tracking numbers on the books - don't want to get a bad reputation, for darn sure.
I do love the whole two birds, one stone thing here - less stuff to move later, and more money for me, and other people can enjoy the books that I did. Now I need to sell more of those, then list the other box (I have a whole inventory here), then read my way through all the books on my shelves and sell those - and all before I get near finals push, because I won't want to deal with the hassle then.
PLUS I love the internet for its stalking capabilities - and its utility in helping me procrastinate.
I was reading up on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and saw an article (by Voice of America, not the most reputable source) that mentioned a Liberian in America who disagrees with it because he thinks there should be a war crimes tribunal to hold the people accountable. Exactly! So I do a little google on Bodioh Siapoe and found a contact and he's already responded to me asking me to call him. How great is this world?
I just have to figure out what exactly I want to say to him now and why it is that I emailed him, besides the fact that I can.
I ran to Haydl's Bakery a couple hours ago because a little voice told me to - and I snatched up the last Saints king cake. It's out in my truck because it smells so darn good that I knew I couldn't wait. And now I'm off to Ayanna's to watch the game. I haven't been able to concentrate on schoolwork all day because of my nervousness about it. I don't think I need a new hobby that stresses me out anymore! But, I really do hope the Saints win.
So I have about 35 books listed on Amazon, already sold three - damn life is grand. See, there's a post office thing on campus on my way to class, so it's no big deal to take care of all that. I do probably need to start doing tracking numbers on the books - don't want to get a bad reputation, for darn sure.
I do love the whole two birds, one stone thing here - less stuff to move later, and more money for me, and other people can enjoy the books that I did. Now I need to sell more of those, then list the other box (I have a whole inventory here), then read my way through all the books on my shelves and sell those - and all before I get near finals push, because I won't want to deal with the hassle then.
PLUS I love the internet for its stalking capabilities - and its utility in helping me procrastinate.
I was reading up on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and saw an article (by Voice of America, not the most reputable source) that mentioned a Liberian in America who disagrees with it because he thinks there should be a war crimes tribunal to hold the people accountable. Exactly! So I do a little google on Bodioh Siapoe and found a contact and he's already responded to me asking me to call him. How great is this world?
I just have to figure out what exactly I want to say to him now and why it is that I emailed him, besides the fact that I can.
I ran to Haydl's Bakery a couple hours ago because a little voice told me to - and I snatched up the last Saints king cake. It's out in my truck because it smells so darn good that I knew I couldn't wait. And now I'm off to Ayanna's to watch the game. I haven't been able to concentrate on schoolwork all day because of my nervousness about it. I don't think I need a new hobby that stresses me out anymore! But, I really do hope the Saints win.
Truth and Reconciliation Committee
I've been seriously thinking about applying for an internship in Liberia with the Truth and Reconciliation Committee.
I'm not sure why it appeals to me so much, but it's been something I've been fascinated with since I first went to the refugee camp. Liberians have a really different sense of truth and reconciliation than I do - there's this strong tradition of complete forgiveness without accountability. This means that really atrocious war criminals are now elected officials. I have a problem with it - because I believe it destabilizes the country, punishes the innocent (can you imagine if your mayor had raped you and cut off your breasts?), and it just on a common sense cultural level seems wrong.
That's probably right there why it fascinates me so - it's called a "rich point" by Agar in anthropology - something that seems to make no sense. Everything makes sense, so figuring out that sense fascinates me. Plus, one of the mandates of the Commission is to figure out "the truth" and combat falsehoods. I'm all about the truth, and yeah, I can handle it.
And I think that honestly I can add to the process. I can read up on South Africa, Argentina, Rwanda, and Germany and how their processes worked (and didn't). I will encounter, "Yes, but things are different here," and I have dealt with that enough to know how to handle it. ("Yes, and you all suffered war atrocities because that's how things have been here - is that really what you want to suffer again?") I can apply my understanding of Rule of Law.
Based on my past experiences with Liberians, I recognize that I listen well, synthesize issues to move forward, and get a lot done - my galvanizing to action often works. Plus, Dayton's experience as a peace cell leader is valuable. (If we can ever find peace in our relationship. No offense Michele, but I recently wrote that I would prefer being bayonetted in the gut to being in love with a Leo. Y'all are difficult.)
But here's where I think I'm delusional. I've been talking a lot of bayonets and bullets lately, for some reason putting myself in the mindset of the Liberian civil war. I've been telling stories of General Butt Naked (people believe he and his Butt Naked Battallion had magical powers, including that he could shoot bullets from his anus - which Dayton, like other Liberians, actually believes - once again, I love the truth).
On that - from the article, General Butt Naked who killed and tortured so many and is now an evangelical preacher, says, "When he goes out to preach now, he says he sometimes encounters relatives of his victims. "I feel very bad, so bad," he said, but he insists it was satanic powers that possessed him in the past and he cannot be held responsible."
This is exactly what I mean. He should be locked up in prison. He has such a debt to society for the horrible, horrible things that he did - and instead he's hiding under cover of "forgiveness." Where is penance and atonement?
Here's my self-delusion, in two parts.
First, that I can live in a city with people like this running free and not be irate all the effing time.
Second, that I can hear the stories and know the horrible things and not be deeply upset all the time. I couldn't even handle Criminal Law and its tales of parents killing children and date rapes. How can I handle war crimes?
Well, in part because they happened and people must move forward. Denying their existence doesn't make them go away, and suppressing memories of their existence does not help anybody. I'm not saying to make victims relive the atrocities - but I do mean holding accountable the perpetrators.
Much more confusing are the child soldiers - young, mostly males, who got drugged out and committed really violent acts. For them, I am more forgiving - but there MUST be mechanisms within society to provide them opportunities and then enforce that they stay on the straight and narrow. If you've been strung out and killed people and played soccer with decapitated heads and raped and tortured grandmothers, it seems a descent into that again could be dangerous for society. Just, maybe.
I dunno. Maybe I could do it for a month in lieu of summer school courses at The Hague.
I'm not sure why it appeals to me so much, but it's been something I've been fascinated with since I first went to the refugee camp. Liberians have a really different sense of truth and reconciliation than I do - there's this strong tradition of complete forgiveness without accountability. This means that really atrocious war criminals are now elected officials. I have a problem with it - because I believe it destabilizes the country, punishes the innocent (can you imagine if your mayor had raped you and cut off your breasts?), and it just on a common sense cultural level seems wrong.
That's probably right there why it fascinates me so - it's called a "rich point" by Agar in anthropology - something that seems to make no sense. Everything makes sense, so figuring out that sense fascinates me. Plus, one of the mandates of the Commission is to figure out "the truth" and combat falsehoods. I'm all about the truth, and yeah, I can handle it.
And I think that honestly I can add to the process. I can read up on South Africa, Argentina, Rwanda, and Germany and how their processes worked (and didn't). I will encounter, "Yes, but things are different here," and I have dealt with that enough to know how to handle it. ("Yes, and you all suffered war atrocities because that's how things have been here - is that really what you want to suffer again?") I can apply my understanding of Rule of Law.
Based on my past experiences with Liberians, I recognize that I listen well, synthesize issues to move forward, and get a lot done - my galvanizing to action often works. Plus, Dayton's experience as a peace cell leader is valuable. (If we can ever find peace in our relationship. No offense Michele, but I recently wrote that I would prefer being bayonetted in the gut to being in love with a Leo. Y'all are difficult.)
But here's where I think I'm delusional. I've been talking a lot of bayonets and bullets lately, for some reason putting myself in the mindset of the Liberian civil war. I've been telling stories of General Butt Naked (people believe he and his Butt Naked Battallion had magical powers, including that he could shoot bullets from his anus - which Dayton, like other Liberians, actually believes - once again, I love the truth).
On that - from the article, General Butt Naked who killed and tortured so many and is now an evangelical preacher, says, "When he goes out to preach now, he says he sometimes encounters relatives of his victims. "I feel very bad, so bad," he said, but he insists it was satanic powers that possessed him in the past and he cannot be held responsible."
This is exactly what I mean. He should be locked up in prison. He has such a debt to society for the horrible, horrible things that he did - and instead he's hiding under cover of "forgiveness." Where is penance and atonement?
Here's my self-delusion, in two parts.
First, that I can live in a city with people like this running free and not be irate all the effing time.
Second, that I can hear the stories and know the horrible things and not be deeply upset all the time. I couldn't even handle Criminal Law and its tales of parents killing children and date rapes. How can I handle war crimes?
Well, in part because they happened and people must move forward. Denying their existence doesn't make them go away, and suppressing memories of their existence does not help anybody. I'm not saying to make victims relive the atrocities - but I do mean holding accountable the perpetrators.
Much more confusing are the child soldiers - young, mostly males, who got drugged out and committed really violent acts. For them, I am more forgiving - but there MUST be mechanisms within society to provide them opportunities and then enforce that they stay on the straight and narrow. If you've been strung out and killed people and played soccer with decapitated heads and raped and tortured grandmothers, it seems a descent into that again could be dangerous for society. Just, maybe.
I dunno. Maybe I could do it for a month in lieu of summer school courses at The Hague.
Friday, January 19, 2007
perfect example
I've never eaten a beignet except with Jenny or Tami. Which means Jenny's visit and two other times. These hips should not be all beignet. And now I know why a 1600-calorie diet with exercise does not make me lose weight and how I can gain 5 pounds in a weekend visit.
Knowledge is power, I've heard.
It made me go find a chocolate milkshake for dinner - which, I did find a pretty good one and cheap and near.
Hey, when the big famine comes, my genes have got me covered. Thin people will fall all around me and I'll be going strong. I remember this Civil War class in high school and the gleam in the teacher's eye when he told the story of this wagon train that got lost and ran out of food. This very overweight guy though, once his body got adjusted to the stress, he ran about like a springtime deer and helped save many of them.
Unfortunately, said teacher had the unhealthy fat buildup - around his middle from excessive alcohol abuse, and he died not long after. I really liked him and it was sad.
So, between classes on Monday my skull is being cut open. OK, exaggeration. Removal of sebaceous cysts, and then once the stitches are removed I'll get a haircut finally. Now I just need to go see the endocrinologist and I'll have the health checklist completed hopefully. Then I need to start on the auto checklist.
Knowledge is power, I've heard.
It made me go find a chocolate milkshake for dinner - which, I did find a pretty good one and cheap and near.
Hey, when the big famine comes, my genes have got me covered. Thin people will fall all around me and I'll be going strong. I remember this Civil War class in high school and the gleam in the teacher's eye when he told the story of this wagon train that got lost and ran out of food. This very overweight guy though, once his body got adjusted to the stress, he ran about like a springtime deer and helped save many of them.
Unfortunately, said teacher had the unhealthy fat buildup - around his middle from excessive alcohol abuse, and he died not long after. I really liked him and it was sad.
So, between classes on Monday my skull is being cut open. OK, exaggeration. Removal of sebaceous cysts, and then once the stitches are removed I'll get a haircut finally. Now I just need to go see the endocrinologist and I'll have the health checklist completed hopefully. Then I need to start on the auto checklist.
great chorus
Ingrid Michaelson, The Way I Am (it's playing on her Myspace)
The Way I Am
Listen
If you were falling, then I would catch you.
You need a light, I'd find a match.
Cuz I love the way you say good morning.
And you take me the way I am.
If you are chilly, here take my sweater.
Your head is aching, I'll make it better.
Cuz I love the way you call me baby.
And you take me the way I am.
I'd buy you Rogaine if you start losing all your hair.
Sew on patches to all you tear.
Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise.
And you take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.
The Way I Am
Listen
If you were falling, then I would catch you.
You need a light, I'd find a match.
Cuz I love the way you say good morning.
And you take me the way I am.
If you are chilly, here take my sweater.
Your head is aching, I'll make it better.
Cuz I love the way you call me baby.
And you take me the way I am.
I'd buy you Rogaine if you start losing all your hair.
Sew on patches to all you tear.
Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise.
And you take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.
$$ making plans
OK, so here's my new money making plan. Read all the books I have on my shelves waiting to be read and then sell them on Amazon. How exactly I'll have time to do that when I'm studying for classes, I'm not sure, but I still have good eyes so it'll work.
Then when the shelves are bare, I'll start selling superfluous organs. I'll start with plasma and the like, but maybe my kidneys are big bank. Oh, and simultaneously I'll lose weight - great idea.
Crim Law grade still not posted. Bastards.
Then when the shelves are bare, I'll start selling superfluous organs. I'll start with plasma and the like, but maybe my kidneys are big bank. Oh, and simultaneously I'll lose weight - great idea.
Crim Law grade still not posted. Bastards.
metabolism test
So, I took a metabolism test this morning, which is sitting with this device in your mouth with your nose clamped shut for 10 minutes. Not very comfortable.
It wasn't really that accurate of a test because it's supposed to be RESTING metabolic rate, and I had just practically ran there for 10 minutes and only rested a few minutes before doing it. So, my real RMR is probably significantly lower than the number I was given.
That said, my RMR according to this test was a good 300 calores LOWER than all those computer programs that give you a general idea of what your RMR is based on averages. I am NOT crazy - it IS difficult for me to lose weight. My RMR is more like somebody of my height who weighs less than 120 pounds - which, I really don't. This also means that I burn calories slower than other people when exercising.
So here's the real dilemma. If I ever were to be at my "target" weight, I would have to consume less than 1200 calories a day and exercise regularly to maintain that weight. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life picking at plain steamed vegetables and sugar-free, fat-free yogurt?
No. I don't want a life without chocolate bourbon pecan pie and king cakes. I'm not saying I want to eat those things every day (well, want to yes, but I don't) (I never have junkfood in my house - I always go out for it - which may be why I'm a social eater). But when I hear these tales of people who NEVER can eat bread or sweets again, I have to wonder about the quality of life. Never another enchilada? No rice? What kind of life is that? How would I ever feel not hungry?
So I got dealt a bad hand here - I have a real slow metabolism and a real high appetite. And now I have evidence of this. The question is more why I don't weigh 300 pounds than why I don't weigh 130 pounds.
It wasn't really that accurate of a test because it's supposed to be RESTING metabolic rate, and I had just practically ran there for 10 minutes and only rested a few minutes before doing it. So, my real RMR is probably significantly lower than the number I was given.
That said, my RMR according to this test was a good 300 calores LOWER than all those computer programs that give you a general idea of what your RMR is based on averages. I am NOT crazy - it IS difficult for me to lose weight. My RMR is more like somebody of my height who weighs less than 120 pounds - which, I really don't. This also means that I burn calories slower than other people when exercising.
So here's the real dilemma. If I ever were to be at my "target" weight, I would have to consume less than 1200 calories a day and exercise regularly to maintain that weight. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life picking at plain steamed vegetables and sugar-free, fat-free yogurt?
No. I don't want a life without chocolate bourbon pecan pie and king cakes. I'm not saying I want to eat those things every day (well, want to yes, but I don't) (I never have junkfood in my house - I always go out for it - which may be why I'm a social eater). But when I hear these tales of people who NEVER can eat bread or sweets again, I have to wonder about the quality of life. Never another enchilada? No rice? What kind of life is that? How would I ever feel not hungry?
So I got dealt a bad hand here - I have a real slow metabolism and a real high appetite. And now I have evidence of this. The question is more why I don't weigh 300 pounds than why I don't weigh 130 pounds.
M got A's
I have a very nice classmate, M, who is one month younger than me. And he got, so far, 2 A's and 1 A-. Which is awesome - for a few reasons.
First, he is really a genuinely good guy. He finished his bachelor's degree in his 30's, spent a lot of time doing other things. That he's able to do so well is law school is awesome, and I like nice, not geeky, real people rewarded.
Second, for me, this is good news. M definitely worked harder than me all last term, studying all day every day. I took the advice not to study all the time just a little too seriously, and it really wouldn't hurt me to study significantly more. Honestly now, after two weeks, I've maybe spent five hours studying so far. That needs to really change. But it just really heartens me that M was successful with hard work - it wasn't some trick or anything. So, I need to work harder also. NObody wants to tell what their grades are, which I find a little odd. Maybe because I was a teacher and knew and gave grades, it's not so taboo to me.
Of course I just signed up to help out with a bunch of pro bono work - on successions, which are a huge problem here - in part because all the post-Katrina aid requires proof that may not exist. (If you die, who your property goes to.) Anyway, it will be interesting and I like the person in charge - she explains very well - and I really want to finish up my 30 hours (before graduation) of required volunteer work this semester. Because next year I'll be even busier, and hopefully Dayton will be here.
First, he is really a genuinely good guy. He finished his bachelor's degree in his 30's, spent a lot of time doing other things. That he's able to do so well is law school is awesome, and I like nice, not geeky, real people rewarded.
Second, for me, this is good news. M definitely worked harder than me all last term, studying all day every day. I took the advice not to study all the time just a little too seriously, and it really wouldn't hurt me to study significantly more. Honestly now, after two weeks, I've maybe spent five hours studying so far. That needs to really change. But it just really heartens me that M was successful with hard work - it wasn't some trick or anything. So, I need to work harder also. NObody wants to tell what their grades are, which I find a little odd. Maybe because I was a teacher and knew and gave grades, it's not so taboo to me.
Of course I just signed up to help out with a bunch of pro bono work - on successions, which are a huge problem here - in part because all the post-Katrina aid requires proof that may not exist. (If you die, who your property goes to.) Anyway, it will be interesting and I like the person in charge - she explains very well - and I really want to finish up my 30 hours (before graduation) of required volunteer work this semester. Because next year I'll be even busier, and hopefully Dayton will be here.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
sad day
I knew this day would someday come, but I thought it would be much later. I thought I had time left, years even.
Sigh. I'm over po' boys. I was out tonight and I had that yum catfish po' boy and, well, it just didn't do it for me.
But the good thing that I realized is that there are some really nice people I'm in school with, and none of them have kids - but a number are married, engaged, or otherwise just a nice adult. Which means? That they will SERIOUSLY need to BABYSIT FOR ME FOR FREE! The girls will have so many aunties and uncles it will be so great!
Funniest thing said tonight: "You're like Angelina Jolie!" who we were just talking about, wondering where their new house is and which school they enrolled their kid in. Said in response to, "So, your fiance is Ghanian?" "Liberian. In Ghana." "Oh, is he at the refugee camp where you were?" "Yeah, he's a refugee." "You're just like Angelina Jolie!" "Yeah, except I marry 'em instead of adopt 'em." "And you don't have millions and millions of dollars."
Yeah, and that.
Sigh. I'm over po' boys. I was out tonight and I had that yum catfish po' boy and, well, it just didn't do it for me.
But the good thing that I realized is that there are some really nice people I'm in school with, and none of them have kids - but a number are married, engaged, or otherwise just a nice adult. Which means? That they will SERIOUSLY need to BABYSIT FOR ME FOR FREE! The girls will have so many aunties and uncles it will be so great!
Funniest thing said tonight: "You're like Angelina Jolie!" who we were just talking about, wondering where their new house is and which school they enrolled their kid in. Said in response to, "So, your fiance is Ghanian?" "Liberian. In Ghana." "Oh, is he at the refugee camp where you were?" "Yeah, he's a refugee." "You're just like Angelina Jolie!" "Yeah, except I marry 'em instead of adopt 'em." "And you don't have millions and millions of dollars."
Yeah, and that.
the most wonderful time of the year
Is not ...
1. Grade time at law school.
2. Pap smear time.
3. Dentist time.
4. Separation from significant other time.
5. Cold windy drizzle time.
Sigh.
1. Grade time at law school.
2. Pap smear time.
3. Dentist time.
4. Separation from significant other time.
5. Cold windy drizzle time.
Sigh.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
on a mission
So, I was sort of feeling bummed about my grades (yeah, so maybe obsessed in misery), but my friend K did worse and now I'm on a mission. We are going to figure out these damn law school exams and we are going to kick ass.
She's been skipping class so I stalked her until I found her and she finally called. She said she wasn't feeling well. Yeah, yeah, I know what that means. It means life sucks and why should you get out of bed. She was sick during exams and it reflects in her grades.
But that's when I realized - these grades don't reflect (of course) on what kind of people we are, but also not on how much we know. We know a lot. More than most people in the classes. Significantly more. We attended, we notetook, we outlined - we learned.
So what is it about? It's only about exam-taking skills. Not writing, because she had the highest grade in the writing class and I don't suck. No, it's about something in the exam process - and I think it's something that idiots do better than us. I don't know what it is yet, but now I'm feeling energized to find out what it is. I think it might be issue spewing - people bringing up shit that isn't part of the answer because it's not right - but for some stupid reason the prof wants to hear it. OK. We'll fucking do it if we have to.
I feel better. Hope it lasts. And I think she feels better now, too. She was way bumming, and my spidey-sense caught it. Stalking for a good purpose.
And, I have a new strategy. I've started taking my laptop to school because I won't type up my notes after class anymore because I'm too damn lazy - I just do them at the time. But it makes my backpack way too heavy, so I'm going to try to start leaving my books at school and just study there. That was my strategy last term but I gave it up when I moved here because I like being home to study and I was trying to eat healthily. But seriously, my bag is way too heavy. And my Con Law book this term - it weighs more than Selma.
My life as a teacher way improved when I stopped taking work home to grade and just did it at school. Sure, my days at school were longer, but then when I left, I left. Maybe that will help me here.
I doubt it though. I don't like studying in the library, and the more time I spend at the school, the more time I waste with chatting.
But I wouldn't be watching The Class in "CBS Innertube." Which is funny, but why the hell is it all white people? The best thing about New York is the major diversity! Why do they keep killing that on TV shows?
And I would really like to start going to the gym again, but it's so freakin boring. But, I gained 5 pounds in the last month. Somebody explain to me how I can be in Africa eating two small meals a day with serious diarrhea and can gain weight.
Good news is that I finally found a doctor at the school clinic who is good - we talked through everything and she says my endocrinologist should examine me for osteoporosis because I'm the incredible shrinking woman (over an inch lost in 20 years - Gail, soon I'll be shorter than you!). Which means I need to go back to the endocrinologist, but I haven't made the time.
But now I have the time, since I quit all my jobs and I'm total law student slacker. The only class I care about right now is Contracts 2, which I think is cool. I think I have a real instinctive preference for women professors - I hear them better, they are more interesting to me, etc. Like, I prefer most male musicians - like their voices singing better. But until my Property Condescending Ass of a Professor breaks out in song, all I hear is that Charlie Brown adult talk. You're a dick, you got a dick, so shut the fuck up.
I met this woman tonight at this meeting I had to go to who said that she wants to find a job with a "feminazi" organization. It startled me - and I said not only have I not heard that term in forever, but she's the first person who's ever said it whom I didn't have to punch in the face. Nice use of appropriation. And the Career Development Dean was there and he's all about helping me get to Liberia this summer.
Could that be the silver lining of this grade debacle? That I give up the idea of working for big fancy firm for $2400/week (OK, that's what I was told is the going rate, but I haven't seen a single firm pay more than $1,000/week, and usually for 1Ls it's all volunteer) and just go to Liberia for the summer somehow someway? I think I'm getting a totally rocking tax refund, so if I can just not get behind financially with the summer, I might be ok. Not great, but ok.
She's been skipping class so I stalked her until I found her and she finally called. She said she wasn't feeling well. Yeah, yeah, I know what that means. It means life sucks and why should you get out of bed. She was sick during exams and it reflects in her grades.
But that's when I realized - these grades don't reflect (of course) on what kind of people we are, but also not on how much we know. We know a lot. More than most people in the classes. Significantly more. We attended, we notetook, we outlined - we learned.
So what is it about? It's only about exam-taking skills. Not writing, because she had the highest grade in the writing class and I don't suck. No, it's about something in the exam process - and I think it's something that idiots do better than us. I don't know what it is yet, but now I'm feeling energized to find out what it is. I think it might be issue spewing - people bringing up shit that isn't part of the answer because it's not right - but for some stupid reason the prof wants to hear it. OK. We'll fucking do it if we have to.
I feel better. Hope it lasts. And I think she feels better now, too. She was way bumming, and my spidey-sense caught it. Stalking for a good purpose.
And, I have a new strategy. I've started taking my laptop to school because I won't type up my notes after class anymore because I'm too damn lazy - I just do them at the time. But it makes my backpack way too heavy, so I'm going to try to start leaving my books at school and just study there. That was my strategy last term but I gave it up when I moved here because I like being home to study and I was trying to eat healthily. But seriously, my bag is way too heavy. And my Con Law book this term - it weighs more than Selma.
My life as a teacher way improved when I stopped taking work home to grade and just did it at school. Sure, my days at school were longer, but then when I left, I left. Maybe that will help me here.
I doubt it though. I don't like studying in the library, and the more time I spend at the school, the more time I waste with chatting.
But I wouldn't be watching The Class in "CBS Innertube." Which is funny, but why the hell is it all white people? The best thing about New York is the major diversity! Why do they keep killing that on TV shows?
And I would really like to start going to the gym again, but it's so freakin boring. But, I gained 5 pounds in the last month. Somebody explain to me how I can be in Africa eating two small meals a day with serious diarrhea and can gain weight.
Good news is that I finally found a doctor at the school clinic who is good - we talked through everything and she says my endocrinologist should examine me for osteoporosis because I'm the incredible shrinking woman (over an inch lost in 20 years - Gail, soon I'll be shorter than you!). Which means I need to go back to the endocrinologist, but I haven't made the time.
But now I have the time, since I quit all my jobs and I'm total law student slacker. The only class I care about right now is Contracts 2, which I think is cool. I think I have a real instinctive preference for women professors - I hear them better, they are more interesting to me, etc. Like, I prefer most male musicians - like their voices singing better. But until my Property Condescending Ass of a Professor breaks out in song, all I hear is that Charlie Brown adult talk. You're a dick, you got a dick, so shut the fuck up.
I met this woman tonight at this meeting I had to go to who said that she wants to find a job with a "feminazi" organization. It startled me - and I said not only have I not heard that term in forever, but she's the first person who's ever said it whom I didn't have to punch in the face. Nice use of appropriation. And the Career Development Dean was there and he's all about helping me get to Liberia this summer.
Could that be the silver lining of this grade debacle? That I give up the idea of working for big fancy firm for $2400/week (OK, that's what I was told is the going rate, but I haven't seen a single firm pay more than $1,000/week, and usually for 1Ls it's all volunteer) and just go to Liberia for the summer somehow someway? I think I'm getting a totally rocking tax refund, so if I can just not get behind financially with the summer, I might be ok. Not great, but ok.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
another B
Civil Procedure: B.
This sucks.
Last grade, Criminal Law, isn't due until Friday.
OK, the good news is that I'm not in the bottom 25%. And that's the only good news I have now.
This sucks.
Last grade, Criminal Law, isn't due until Friday.
OK, the good news is that I'm not in the bottom 25%. And that's the only good news I have now.
path of least resistance
I think my potential new place to live is advertising for somebody else. I recognize her details - she's looking for somebody immediately to be a roommate rather than the housesitting. She recognized my lack of eagerness at roommateness, and I'm really relieved. If she had asked me straight out if I would move in now, I would have hemmed and hawed a lot. This way, I'm off the hook.
I'm really not thrilled about staying where I am until May - the mosquitos, lack of laundry, lack of windows, etc. - but it does seem prudent. If I find a job here this summer, I can find a good place when people leave. If I don't, I can save summer rent by putting everything into storage and going elsewhere. Which means I have lots and lots of books to finish reading, because I am damn sick and tired of packing them up into boxes and hauling them all around.
Today I chatted with another Torts guy who said he was happy with his grade - and it is the same as mine. And he's way smart and studied hard. How did we both get B's? That's messed up.
And I am going to quit my tutoring job, leaving me with no income. I just dread it, and it stresses me out. I'll tell her my grades suck and I have some health issues which require too many appointments (which is true). I just feel bad about doing it. Oh well. I just really, really need to focus on LAW and LAW ONLY.
I'm really not thrilled about staying where I am until May - the mosquitos, lack of laundry, lack of windows, etc. - but it does seem prudent. If I find a job here this summer, I can find a good place when people leave. If I don't, I can save summer rent by putting everything into storage and going elsewhere. Which means I have lots and lots of books to finish reading, because I am damn sick and tired of packing them up into boxes and hauling them all around.
Today I chatted with another Torts guy who said he was happy with his grade - and it is the same as mine. And he's way smart and studied hard. How did we both get B's? That's messed up.
And I am going to quit my tutoring job, leaving me with no income. I just dread it, and it stresses me out. I'll tell her my grades suck and I have some health issues which require too many appointments (which is true). I just feel bad about doing it. Oh well. I just really, really need to focus on LAW and LAW ONLY.
Contracts grade
Contracts grade: B+.
That sucks because:
1. It's not an A.
2. That was the class I was SURE I did best in. I felt really good after that test. So, the two grades not yet submitted are the ones I felt worst about.
Which means that the next few days I'm really going to be on pins and needles. Sigh.
I'm not in the top third. This SO SUCKS.
That sucks because:
1. It's not an A.
2. That was the class I was SURE I did best in. I felt really good after that test. So, the two grades not yet submitted are the ones I felt worst about.
Which means that the next few days I'm really going to be on pins and needles. Sigh.
I'm not in the top third. This SO SUCKS.
Monday, January 15, 2007
other summer possibility
I was just surfing and somehow ran into internship application for summer with USAID in Liberia.
Hm. Interesting.
I know that right now I have absolutely no desire to get up off my couch and go ANYWHERE. That the idea of getting back on an airplane for 28 hours of travel makes my hips hurt. (Ever since Amy had babies, my hips have hurt like hers - sympathy pains I guess. But I get to sleep through the night, so it's not all bad.) That the idea of all the frustrations of West Africa for a whole summer would make me crazy. Especially war-destroyed Liberia. Especially since I have friends and "family" there who expect things of me.
Worst of all, it's an internship. Internships SUCK.
This one would provide my housing and "small monthly stipend" (probably enough to hire somebody to cook my greens for me). Not bad. I'd have to pay for plane fare there - but since I'll probably go to Africa in the summer anyway, that's not actually more money for me. If I put everything in storage, I wouldn't be $$ behind after the summer. And I could do The Hague summer school course.
And while I have no desire to go anywhere now, that won't last long if my neural net hasn't been substantially altered.
Hm. I certainly wouldn't get ahead, but I wouldn't be behind financially like I would be if I have to pay rent and all that somewhere in the States without making any money. Things like TVs are way expensive in Liberia, but food and transport are cheaper than Ghana (which is way cheaper than Senegal).
One of my profs worked for USAID and I'll go talk to him.
Of course I *DO* want to make it to Gail & Shelton's wedding ... but I may have to plan a visit at another point for more quality time. I just gotta go where the jobs are.
The thing is, I don't know if I can get a job in international development with my mediocre grades - maybe I can. And the way it was explained to me, you save MAJOR bank when doing these jobs because it's tax-free and housing, etc. is provided. Of course that could have major problems (would there be good schools for the girls? What would Dayton do - would there be on-line college courses he could take or any kind of job?). But maybe a summer in Liberia would be exactly what I need to disabuse me of the notion that this is anything that I want to do for a living. Especially since I wouldn't probably be able to live with Dayton (I'll probably be housed with other people so he couldn't live with me, and housing is SO hard to find there now, so he'll probably be living far away from where I have to work). Living with him would make everything so easy, but if I have to do it all for myself, I may be less thrilled. But - hey - we could ACTUALLY DATE!! That would be cool! Not that there are any date places to go in Liberia - but we could like hang out and such. Hm. And then I could be there to go with him to the embassy for the appointment to get the visa - I hear my presence can make a significant difference. Probably especially if I work for them! (That was how I found the internship info actually - something I clicked took me to Monrovia US Embassy site, and it was linked there.)
Hm.
Of course, I won't get my hopes up. Applications don't even get posted for another month, and I've had lousy application luck the past year or two. My semi-charmed kind of life has lost its gleam. I guess I complained too many times about having too many options, so now the universe limits them for me.
Hm.
Hm. Interesting.
I know that right now I have absolutely no desire to get up off my couch and go ANYWHERE. That the idea of getting back on an airplane for 28 hours of travel makes my hips hurt. (Ever since Amy had babies, my hips have hurt like hers - sympathy pains I guess. But I get to sleep through the night, so it's not all bad.) That the idea of all the frustrations of West Africa for a whole summer would make me crazy. Especially war-destroyed Liberia. Especially since I have friends and "family" there who expect things of me.
Worst of all, it's an internship. Internships SUCK.
This one would provide my housing and "small monthly stipend" (probably enough to hire somebody to cook my greens for me). Not bad. I'd have to pay for plane fare there - but since I'll probably go to Africa in the summer anyway, that's not actually more money for me. If I put everything in storage, I wouldn't be $$ behind after the summer. And I could do The Hague summer school course.
And while I have no desire to go anywhere now, that won't last long if my neural net hasn't been substantially altered.
Hm. I certainly wouldn't get ahead, but I wouldn't be behind financially like I would be if I have to pay rent and all that somewhere in the States without making any money. Things like TVs are way expensive in Liberia, but food and transport are cheaper than Ghana (which is way cheaper than Senegal).
One of my profs worked for USAID and I'll go talk to him.
Of course I *DO* want to make it to Gail & Shelton's wedding ... but I may have to plan a visit at another point for more quality time. I just gotta go where the jobs are.
The thing is, I don't know if I can get a job in international development with my mediocre grades - maybe I can. And the way it was explained to me, you save MAJOR bank when doing these jobs because it's tax-free and housing, etc. is provided. Of course that could have major problems (would there be good schools for the girls? What would Dayton do - would there be on-line college courses he could take or any kind of job?). But maybe a summer in Liberia would be exactly what I need to disabuse me of the notion that this is anything that I want to do for a living. Especially since I wouldn't probably be able to live with Dayton (I'll probably be housed with other people so he couldn't live with me, and housing is SO hard to find there now, so he'll probably be living far away from where I have to work). Living with him would make everything so easy, but if I have to do it all for myself, I may be less thrilled. But - hey - we could ACTUALLY DATE!! That would be cool! Not that there are any date places to go in Liberia - but we could like hang out and such. Hm. And then I could be there to go with him to the embassy for the appointment to get the visa - I hear my presence can make a significant difference. Probably especially if I work for them! (That was how I found the internship info actually - something I clicked took me to Monrovia US Embassy site, and it was linked there.)
Hm.
Of course, I won't get my hopes up. Applications don't even get posted for another month, and I've had lousy application luck the past year or two. My semi-charmed kind of life has lost its gleam. I guess I complained too many times about having too many options, so now the universe limits them for me.
Hm.
summer plans
So, here's a thought I'm having just right now - not one that I'm committed to.
Leaving NOLA this summer, putting all my stuff in storage, and chillaxing in Cali and/or Oregon for the summer - hopefully with legal employment. But the thought of paying rent here when I'm not here just for the peace of mind that I'll have a good place when I get back - that I don't like.
Of course paying for storage and driving both ways and helping out whomever I crash with and all those things - I probably won't really come out financially ahead if I do that than if I stick around here.
I'm beyond unmotivated and lazy. I'm thinking about taking my computer to school with me because I'm too lazy to type up my notes anymore - I'll just do it in class now. I know that's a really, really bad idea. All my classmates - they were pretty good about computing on-task during class last semester. Now though, they are ordering clothes, checking sports scores, emailing, making wedding plans - seriously everything but paying attention. And I'm right with them. I won't hear a word if I take my computer because I'll be too intent on ... well, anything else. And I'm too lazy to look over my notes after class - which was the prime reason that typing them later was a good idea. But, I'm a B student now, so I guess what seems a good idea may not really be.
I also hate taking my computer because it's more weight, more hassle (what if it gets stolen, lost, rained on, dropped, etc.).
But, like I said. LAZY.
I'm trying to get through Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco, but it's like 600 pages and boring, boring, boring.
Anyway, I'm WAY too unmotivated and lazy to want to actually seek out a job. I want it to come to me, without effort.
And I'm way too unmotivated and lazy to go to the gym. I'm over the elliptical, and I don't know what else to do for my cardio. No Michele here to play racquetball with me. I'd try one of the fitness classes, but I'm just too lazy.
Somebody told me about when her boyfriend went to India he got this nasty virus that affected his nervous system and totally changed his personality. I wonder if that's what happened to me - I just feel so different now. So damn lazy. Unfortunately, I'm still uptight - it'd be nice if I were lazy and mellow both.
Leaving NOLA this summer, putting all my stuff in storage, and chillaxing in Cali and/or Oregon for the summer - hopefully with legal employment. But the thought of paying rent here when I'm not here just for the peace of mind that I'll have a good place when I get back - that I don't like.
Of course paying for storage and driving both ways and helping out whomever I crash with and all those things - I probably won't really come out financially ahead if I do that than if I stick around here.
I'm beyond unmotivated and lazy. I'm thinking about taking my computer to school with me because I'm too lazy to type up my notes anymore - I'll just do it in class now. I know that's a really, really bad idea. All my classmates - they were pretty good about computing on-task during class last semester. Now though, they are ordering clothes, checking sports scores, emailing, making wedding plans - seriously everything but paying attention. And I'm right with them. I won't hear a word if I take my computer because I'll be too intent on ... well, anything else. And I'm too lazy to look over my notes after class - which was the prime reason that typing them later was a good idea. But, I'm a B student now, so I guess what seems a good idea may not really be.
I also hate taking my computer because it's more weight, more hassle (what if it gets stolen, lost, rained on, dropped, etc.).
But, like I said. LAZY.
I'm trying to get through Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco, but it's like 600 pages and boring, boring, boring.
Anyway, I'm WAY too unmotivated and lazy to want to actually seek out a job. I want it to come to me, without effort.
And I'm way too unmotivated and lazy to go to the gym. I'm over the elliptical, and I don't know what else to do for my cardio. No Michele here to play racquetball with me. I'd try one of the fitness classes, but I'm just too lazy.
Somebody told me about when her boyfriend went to India he got this nasty virus that affected his nervous system and totally changed his personality. I wonder if that's what happened to me - I just feel so different now. So damn lazy. Unfortunately, I'm still uptight - it'd be nice if I were lazy and mellow both.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Louisiana state bird
We've been having beautiful weather lately - up into the 70's, sunny, warm.
And out come the mosquitos.
I've lived in mosquito land many times before - Alaska, Africa, etc. But the mosquitos here in New Orleans are really a pernicious bunch. They cluster and they swarm. It's impossible for me to get in or out my front door without inviting the blood-sucking masses in a "mi casa es su casa" statement. Then I chase the buggers forever, showing them how murderous my home is.
I hate this game. They always win to some extent. Itch, itch, scratch, scratch.
Last night there were swarms in Melissa and Bobby's house because she'd had the door open while BBQing. Glad to know I'm not the only person living in the swamp.
And out come the mosquitos.
I've lived in mosquito land many times before - Alaska, Africa, etc. But the mosquitos here in New Orleans are really a pernicious bunch. They cluster and they swarm. It's impossible for me to get in or out my front door without inviting the blood-sucking masses in a "mi casa es su casa" statement. Then I chase the buggers forever, showing them how murderous my home is.
I hate this game. They always win to some extent. Itch, itch, scratch, scratch.
Last night there were swarms in Melissa and Bobby's house because she'd had the door open while BBQing. Glad to know I'm not the only person living in the swamp.
Chicken Couscous
Chicken Couscous from The South Beach Diet Quick & Easy Cookbook, p. 192
Season chicken with salt and pepper. Heat oil in large saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook chicken until no longer pink inside and lightly browned, about 6 minutes. Remove chicken from pan with slotted spoon and drain on paper towels.
Reduce heat to medium and add onion, cumin, and cinnamon to the same pan; cook until onions are softened and lightly browned, about three minutes. Add broth and bring to a simmer. Stir in couscous, chickpeas, and a good pinch of salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook 1 minute. Return chicken to saucepan, combine with couscous, season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve.
- 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 3/4 inch cubes (I use far less chicken and often have pre-cooked it whole in order to avoid handling raw poultry)
- 1 Tablespoon olive oil
- 1 small onion, diced
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon (the key to the yumminess of this - but no more than this)
- 1 cup broth
- 1/2 cup whole-wheat couscous
- 1 (15 oz) can chickpeas
- salt & freshly ground black pepper
Season chicken with salt and pepper. Heat oil in large saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook chicken until no longer pink inside and lightly browned, about 6 minutes. Remove chicken from pan with slotted spoon and drain on paper towels.
Reduce heat to medium and add onion, cumin, and cinnamon to the same pan; cook until onions are softened and lightly browned, about three minutes. Add broth and bring to a simmer. Stir in couscous, chickpeas, and a good pinch of salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook 1 minute. Return chicken to saucepan, combine with couscous, season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve.
Turkish Spinach and Lentil Soup
I'm going to start posting the things I'm cooking. Since I can now label posts and (they say) sort that way, then I can easily find the recipes later.
Turkish Spinach and Lentil Soup - from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant, p. 71
*extremely yummilicious.
1 cup dried lentils
5 c. vegetable stock/water
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 c. olive oil
2 c. chopped onions
3 pressed garlic cloves
1/4 t. cayenne
2 bay leaves
1/2 c. raw bulghur
1/4 c. chopped fresh parsley (I use dried)
2 c. chopped tomatoes (a can of diced)
1/4 c. tomato paste (I think I used whole small can)
pinch of dried rosemary (I used more)
salt & pepper
2 cups stemmed, cleaned, and coarsely chopped fresh spinach (today I'm using some that I froze a few months ago - time to clear out the freezer)
chopped fresh parsley
Rinse lentils. Bring them to boil in stock. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 40 minutes.
Heat olive oil in heavy soup pot. Saute the onions until translucent. Add garlic, cayenne, bay leaves, and raw bulghur. Stir on medium heat until onion and bulghur are lightly browned.
Mix in parsley and tomatoes for a bit, then stir in tomato paste.
Pour lentils and liquid into the soup pot wiht the onions and bulghur. Simmer 15 minutes. Add rosemary, salt, pepper to taste. If lentils & bulghur have absorbed too much liquid, add more stock, water, or tomato juice. Remove bay leaves.
Just before serving, stire in spinach and let it wilt in the hot soup. Garnish with more fresh parsley and serve with crusty bread.
Turkish Spinach and Lentil Soup - from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant, p. 71
*extremely yummilicious.
1 cup dried lentils
5 c. vegetable stock/water
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 c. olive oil
2 c. chopped onions
3 pressed garlic cloves
1/4 t. cayenne
2 bay leaves
1/2 c. raw bulghur
1/4 c. chopped fresh parsley (I use dried)
2 c. chopped tomatoes (a can of diced)
1/4 c. tomato paste (I think I used whole small can)
pinch of dried rosemary (I used more)
salt & pepper
2 cups stemmed, cleaned, and coarsely chopped fresh spinach (today I'm using some that I froze a few months ago - time to clear out the freezer)
chopped fresh parsley
Rinse lentils. Bring them to boil in stock. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 40 minutes.
Heat olive oil in heavy soup pot. Saute the onions until translucent. Add garlic, cayenne, bay leaves, and raw bulghur. Stir on medium heat until onion and bulghur are lightly browned.
Mix in parsley and tomatoes for a bit, then stir in tomato paste.
Pour lentils and liquid into the soup pot wiht the onions and bulghur. Simmer 15 minutes. Add rosemary, salt, pepper to taste. If lentils & bulghur have absorbed too much liquid, add more stock, water, or tomato juice. Remove bay leaves.
Just before serving, stire in spinach and let it wilt in the hot soup. Garnish with more fresh parsley and serve with crusty bread.
Geaux Saints! Who Dat?
Saints won! The song I love, again. And if that link doesn't work, try this.
Went to Melissa & Bobby's house, friends of Tami and Ahmed. Watched it on the big screen, holding our breath, screaming and cheering as appropriate. Sometimes I thought it was church, or mosque - because there was lots of praying going on.
Then we geared up (I'm the only jersey-less one) and loaded up in Melissa's new big SUV and drove into The Quarter, crossing Bourbon street, carrying signs such as:
Fried Eagles $45
Baked Eagles $55
BBQ Eagles $65
Saints Winning ... Priceless
What was the funniest was how we became a tourist attraction - all sorts of people taking pictures of us in the Jeep with the sign. Too funny.
So, next Sunday 1 pm. I must find a TV. Too much suspense.
Went to Melissa & Bobby's house, friends of Tami and Ahmed. Watched it on the big screen, holding our breath, screaming and cheering as appropriate. Sometimes I thought it was church, or mosque - because there was lots of praying going on.
Then we geared up (I'm the only jersey-less one) and loaded up in Melissa's new big SUV and drove into The Quarter, crossing Bourbon street, carrying signs such as:
Fried Eagles $45
Baked Eagles $55
BBQ Eagles $65
Saints Winning ... Priceless
What was the funniest was how we became a tourist attraction - all sorts of people taking pictures of us in the Jeep with the sign. Too funny.
So, next Sunday 1 pm. I must find a TV. Too much suspense.
walk away?
OK, we all know that I have some issues with commitment. (And those who've known me long know I have HUGE issues with commitment.)
But here I am looking at final date to drop classes for 100% refund.
Does anybody know how really awesome it sounds to just walk away?
The problem is, of course, that there's nothing else I'd rather do. Going back to teaching turns my stomach.
We just got a real downer lecture from a career counselor who informed us we won't make big money at all.
I hope she's wrong.
But honestly, if the rest of my grades aren't any better, I need a serious pep talk. I think I'll go see the Dean of the law school - because he always gives it to me straight, and he makes fun of me but never crosses the line.
But here I am looking at final date to drop classes for 100% refund.
Does anybody know how really awesome it sounds to just walk away?
The problem is, of course, that there's nothing else I'd rather do. Going back to teaching turns my stomach.
We just got a real downer lecture from a career counselor who informed us we won't make big money at all.
I hope she's wrong.
But honestly, if the rest of my grades aren't any better, I need a serious pep talk. I think I'll go see the Dean of the law school - because he always gives it to me straight, and he makes fun of me but never crosses the line.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
first grade
B in Torts.
That fucking pisses me off.
I do everything for the stupid classes - I show up every day, I read, I brief cases. I participate and show that I'm not a fucking moron - and then I get a B. A B. That means I'm only in the top 60% of the class. Which means that the people who skipped class, didn't read, etc. got the same grade I did - OR BETTER. He wrote a crappy exam that was too easy, so really hard to distinguish between people. If I was on the bottom of the pile and he was out of A's (only usually 3-4 per class of 150) or B+, then there I am. Too much luck for my tastes. I'm not good enough that luck doesn't matter, and for me it matters too much.
I guess the good news is that it's not a B- or lower.
The bad news is I don't know what to do to do better. There at the end of the term I could have been less busy with work and feeling better and more motivated to outline the classes - but Torts was the one class that I actually did outline in advance. I knew that class material better than the others - which of course has me in a bit of a panic.
I'll go see the prof and go over my exam answer and the model answer and see the differences, and he'll try to give me advice which I will disregard because his advice is always lame. He graduated first in his class at Yale, and he is completely clueless. Kamaria says the A students end up working for the C students, and I understand that now.
So, getting a law job will be all about my connections, because my grades won't get me in any doors. And I have no connections.
Yesterday I thought seriously about applying to jobs at Chevron, etc. - oil and gas field. The prof was yakking on and on about it, and I thought it sounded like a good deal. Oil and gas have always been a part of my life in the background, and there is BIG MONEY there. Could I handle the assholes that run it? Maybe. But I have absolutely no background in petroleum engineering or anything else useful. If I submitted a resume to them, they would laugh.
Honestly for this summer I just saw my chances at a paying job slip through my fingers with my grades. Most firms will only hire 1Ls in the top 10% - definitely not me. And I have no connections in NOLA - but there are three law schools in the vicinity, and lots of LA kids away at law school who come home for the summer and have connections. Few opportunities left for me. I'll try, I guess, just because it would be way easy to not have to think about moving, etc.
But I'm also going to look wherever I have a key - that is, a friend I can crash with for a month or two this summer. Mostly that means Riverside or Portland, both of which may have some possibilities. But I can't afford to work for free - I have a bad attitude about 40 hours a week without a paycheck. So even a little pay would make the difference to me. The vast majority of 1Ls do internships without pay this summer, but that doesn't really work for me. And honestly, I don't plan on working in helping the downtrodden once I graduate - I'm targeting big business and whoever pays me tons. Helping the indigent doesn't pay, and that's who's looking for 1L volunteers. Sure, my nature is to jump on-board and right wrongs and defend the needy - but honestly, it won't help advance my career plans much at all.
We weren't allowed to do any job searching before December, and then we were so crazy busy with finals and then I was in Africa - so I'm really far behind the ball on this. So now I'm waiting for all my grades - because if I have a "big fat C" on my grades, I will be completely and totally screwed. I won't even be able to beg to work for free. Even the indigents will reject me.
Speaking of which, I'm spending today volunteering in a pro bono clinic for Latinos. I really hope I don't get lured in - I need to stick to my big business principles. I need to make money. Lots of money. To pay off debt and invest for the future - because if Dayton and I can ever stop our squabbling, putting him and several children through college will cost a small fortune. More than the indigents pay for damn sure.
And maybe this is just because I'm still sleeping 10 hours a night and not feeling 100% after my "vacation" - but right now, I'm a little over traveling the world for a living. Maybe business class and hotels with plumbing would change my mind about that - but I am totally wiped out still - a week after getting back. And I need to be honest with myself - my hearing is bad enough that learning new languages has become quite difficult. I can hardly understand people in English a lot of the time - African French? Who am I kidding? I don't have the 19-year-old nubile mind I once did.
As my grades reflect.
That fucking pisses me off.
I do everything for the stupid classes - I show up every day, I read, I brief cases. I participate and show that I'm not a fucking moron - and then I get a B. A B. That means I'm only in the top 60% of the class. Which means that the people who skipped class, didn't read, etc. got the same grade I did - OR BETTER. He wrote a crappy exam that was too easy, so really hard to distinguish between people. If I was on the bottom of the pile and he was out of A's (only usually 3-4 per class of 150) or B+, then there I am. Too much luck for my tastes. I'm not good enough that luck doesn't matter, and for me it matters too much.
I guess the good news is that it's not a B- or lower.
The bad news is I don't know what to do to do better. There at the end of the term I could have been less busy with work and feeling better and more motivated to outline the classes - but Torts was the one class that I actually did outline in advance. I knew that class material better than the others - which of course has me in a bit of a panic.
I'll go see the prof and go over my exam answer and the model answer and see the differences, and he'll try to give me advice which I will disregard because his advice is always lame. He graduated first in his class at Yale, and he is completely clueless. Kamaria says the A students end up working for the C students, and I understand that now.
So, getting a law job will be all about my connections, because my grades won't get me in any doors. And I have no connections.
Yesterday I thought seriously about applying to jobs at Chevron, etc. - oil and gas field. The prof was yakking on and on about it, and I thought it sounded like a good deal. Oil and gas have always been a part of my life in the background, and there is BIG MONEY there. Could I handle the assholes that run it? Maybe. But I have absolutely no background in petroleum engineering or anything else useful. If I submitted a resume to them, they would laugh.
Honestly for this summer I just saw my chances at a paying job slip through my fingers with my grades. Most firms will only hire 1Ls in the top 10% - definitely not me. And I have no connections in NOLA - but there are three law schools in the vicinity, and lots of LA kids away at law school who come home for the summer and have connections. Few opportunities left for me. I'll try, I guess, just because it would be way easy to not have to think about moving, etc.
But I'm also going to look wherever I have a key - that is, a friend I can crash with for a month or two this summer. Mostly that means Riverside or Portland, both of which may have some possibilities. But I can't afford to work for free - I have a bad attitude about 40 hours a week without a paycheck. So even a little pay would make the difference to me. The vast majority of 1Ls do internships without pay this summer, but that doesn't really work for me. And honestly, I don't plan on working in helping the downtrodden once I graduate - I'm targeting big business and whoever pays me tons. Helping the indigent doesn't pay, and that's who's looking for 1L volunteers. Sure, my nature is to jump on-board and right wrongs and defend the needy - but honestly, it won't help advance my career plans much at all.
We weren't allowed to do any job searching before December, and then we were so crazy busy with finals and then I was in Africa - so I'm really far behind the ball on this. So now I'm waiting for all my grades - because if I have a "big fat C" on my grades, I will be completely and totally screwed. I won't even be able to beg to work for free. Even the indigents will reject me.
Speaking of which, I'm spending today volunteering in a pro bono clinic for Latinos. I really hope I don't get lured in - I need to stick to my big business principles. I need to make money. Lots of money. To pay off debt and invest for the future - because if Dayton and I can ever stop our squabbling, putting him and several children through college will cost a small fortune. More than the indigents pay for damn sure.
And maybe this is just because I'm still sleeping 10 hours a night and not feeling 100% after my "vacation" - but right now, I'm a little over traveling the world for a living. Maybe business class and hotels with plumbing would change my mind about that - but I am totally wiped out still - a week after getting back. And I need to be honest with myself - my hearing is bad enough that learning new languages has become quite difficult. I can hardly understand people in English a lot of the time - African French? Who am I kidding? I don't have the 19-year-old nubile mind I once did.
As my grades reflect.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Property, day one
There I sat, arms folded, a scowl on my face. And he just wouldn't back down.
I got called on in class today by the ass who cancelled class on Tuesday without warning. I had decided not to like him after that and a 2L telling me he's really mean to students. I had said, "Good. I hope he tries that with me."
I didn't know it would be the first day of class.
It was an interesting case from 1832 by Chief Justice Marshall which effectively legally divested Native Americans of all land rights. The general principle, we learn, is that the conqueror possesses. Great. I read it 10 minutes before class because I am #1 Slacker now.
He went down the alphabet beginning near my name, and I felt that dread rise. I was fourth, and the others had really outdone themselves as appearing to be complete morons. What was the plaintiff's chain of title is NOT a difficult question, people. (And I kept wanting to laugh at the notion that there is some tribal council that deals with things in Western-style legal fashion or that there's ANY kind of consensus in any tribal setting. Has nobody actually lived and/or worked with Native Americans? Maybe an argument could be made that the fractious politics of tribal politics are because of interaction with dysfunctional Western systems - and while I'm the first to label my people as dysfunctional, I'm over the illusion that it's ONLY my people.)
I don't remember what questions he asked me, but I could see his glee rise. I had a little firm set to my jaw there. I was polite (though not as polite as my Texas friend who insisted on calling him "sir") but deliberately disengaged. I fully answered the questions and sounded, according to my peers, erudite. But I regarded him with disdain.
That drives men, and teachers, crazy. They want us nervous and awe-struck (I've heard he's a genius and I simply don't care) and eager to please. I'm none of those. I was working out a monthly budget and looking up holidays on my day planner before he said my name. (This is why I never take my laptop to class - I would completely stop listening.)
He wouldn't let me go. Each new turn of thinking, he would come back to me until he finally realized I'm not the only student in that class of over 100. Reluctantly he moved down the list.
This is going to be a long effing semester. According to reputable sources, he likes to push students until it's painful and they cry (or want to). That takes a lot for me (except with Dayton, but that's totally different), and I meet mean with mean. I did, after all, teach middle school for a living. Disinterested, bored teenage girls are my specialty. I do a great imitation which can push the strongest soul to unreasonableness.
He may think he's tough, but he's no match for this survivor of secondary education. I've made men in power cry before, and I can do it again.
I got called on in class today by the ass who cancelled class on Tuesday without warning. I had decided not to like him after that and a 2L telling me he's really mean to students. I had said, "Good. I hope he tries that with me."
I didn't know it would be the first day of class.
It was an interesting case from 1832 by Chief Justice Marshall which effectively legally divested Native Americans of all land rights. The general principle, we learn, is that the conqueror possesses. Great. I read it 10 minutes before class because I am #1 Slacker now.
He went down the alphabet beginning near my name, and I felt that dread rise. I was fourth, and the others had really outdone themselves as appearing to be complete morons. What was the plaintiff's chain of title is NOT a difficult question, people. (And I kept wanting to laugh at the notion that there is some tribal council that deals with things in Western-style legal fashion or that there's ANY kind of consensus in any tribal setting. Has nobody actually lived and/or worked with Native Americans? Maybe an argument could be made that the fractious politics of tribal politics are because of interaction with dysfunctional Western systems - and while I'm the first to label my people as dysfunctional, I'm over the illusion that it's ONLY my people.)
I don't remember what questions he asked me, but I could see his glee rise. I had a little firm set to my jaw there. I was polite (though not as polite as my Texas friend who insisted on calling him "sir") but deliberately disengaged. I fully answered the questions and sounded, according to my peers, erudite. But I regarded him with disdain.
That drives men, and teachers, crazy. They want us nervous and awe-struck (I've heard he's a genius and I simply don't care) and eager to please. I'm none of those. I was working out a monthly budget and looking up holidays on my day planner before he said my name. (This is why I never take my laptop to class - I would completely stop listening.)
He wouldn't let me go. Each new turn of thinking, he would come back to me until he finally realized I'm not the only student in that class of over 100. Reluctantly he moved down the list.
This is going to be a long effing semester. According to reputable sources, he likes to push students until it's painful and they cry (or want to). That takes a lot for me (except with Dayton, but that's totally different), and I meet mean with mean. I did, after all, teach middle school for a living. Disinterested, bored teenage girls are my specialty. I do a great imitation which can push the strongest soul to unreasonableness.
He may think he's tough, but he's no match for this survivor of secondary education. I've made men in power cry before, and I can do it again.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
the groove
I've given up my delusions of being in the top 10% of my law school class, but I'm still scrapping for top third. Just got back my writing assignment, and the good news is that my grade didn't go down from the first assignment. The bad news is that it didn't go up, and the class mean did. I'm still above average, I'm still in top third, but I'm only in the top third, not the top 10%.
That kills me, of course, but I'm adjusting.
Why is my grade that? Well, I didn't use time well, and I worked my jobs too much around the time it was due. I told myself then that if my grade sucked, I couldn't work.
Anyway, the other grades haven't been turned in yet - life doesn't suck to be a law professor. They only have to grade one thing the entire term, one test, and they get six weeks to do it. Not a one of them could handle middle school English teaching.
We had the board meeting for the Latino organization I'm volunteer coordinator for (and which drags me to volunteer all day Saturday at a Latino pro bono legal project - I'd rather sleep all day), and it was interesting. Every so often I'm startled with how different my law school experience is from others'. Another 1L was talking about all these great venues to have a dance party, and a 2L talked about how to plan things so that people could also go out afterward, and I thought - I know this is New Orleans, the party capital, but how do these people do it?
It's just not fun for me, to go out and party. Maybe it would be good for me, but it's really unpleasant for me. I don't think it's just that I'm old - I think it's just my personality. I like small and one-on-one, but large groups are not fun for me.
Like I said, we're all grumpy, but we're slowly getting our mojo back on. I miss some of my peeps - K and Son of Deepo-Provero-Inventor are only in my writing class still, and I miss them both much. K and I hung out today and talked about the stupidity of giving only white dolls to black children (her mother used to paint her lunchbox, clothes, etc. to have brown children all around her, but Dayton gave white dolls to Cece), but it's not the same. I've met some other people - people I watched all semester and decided I wanted to know. Now we sit together and have introduced and all that. I got all sorts of advice today - about having a baby (guy's wife just had their second), about marrying a foreigner (guy is twice-divorced, both time to non-Americans). I borrowed Highlighter Boy's highlighters - I'm obsessed with them, and he's pretty cute. What is it with me and Koreans?
And Contracts was good today - it was really interesting to me, which is good because that's what I think I want to do for a living. We're talking about the Uniform Commercial Code, which governs goods (but not services), and includes implied warranties for merchants. Buyer needn't beware, as long as they can hire good counsel.
That's me.
Once I get my groove on. Hopefully I find it after a weekend of much sleep and reading non-law things. Two more days to make it through until then.
That kills me, of course, but I'm adjusting.
Why is my grade that? Well, I didn't use time well, and I worked my jobs too much around the time it was due. I told myself then that if my grade sucked, I couldn't work.
Anyway, the other grades haven't been turned in yet - life doesn't suck to be a law professor. They only have to grade one thing the entire term, one test, and they get six weeks to do it. Not a one of them could handle middle school English teaching.
We had the board meeting for the Latino organization I'm volunteer coordinator for (and which drags me to volunteer all day Saturday at a Latino pro bono legal project - I'd rather sleep all day), and it was interesting. Every so often I'm startled with how different my law school experience is from others'. Another 1L was talking about all these great venues to have a dance party, and a 2L talked about how to plan things so that people could also go out afterward, and I thought - I know this is New Orleans, the party capital, but how do these people do it?
It's just not fun for me, to go out and party. Maybe it would be good for me, but it's really unpleasant for me. I don't think it's just that I'm old - I think it's just my personality. I like small and one-on-one, but large groups are not fun for me.
Like I said, we're all grumpy, but we're slowly getting our mojo back on. I miss some of my peeps - K and Son of Deepo-Provero-Inventor are only in my writing class still, and I miss them both much. K and I hung out today and talked about the stupidity of giving only white dolls to black children (her mother used to paint her lunchbox, clothes, etc. to have brown children all around her, but Dayton gave white dolls to Cece), but it's not the same. I've met some other people - people I watched all semester and decided I wanted to know. Now we sit together and have introduced and all that. I got all sorts of advice today - about having a baby (guy's wife just had their second), about marrying a foreigner (guy is twice-divorced, both time to non-Americans). I borrowed Highlighter Boy's highlighters - I'm obsessed with them, and he's pretty cute. What is it with me and Koreans?
And Contracts was good today - it was really interesting to me, which is good because that's what I think I want to do for a living. We're talking about the Uniform Commercial Code, which governs goods (but not services), and includes implied warranties for merchants. Buyer needn't beware, as long as they can hire good counsel.
That's me.
Once I get my groove on. Hopefully I find it after a weekend of much sleep and reading non-law things. Two more days to make it through until then.
scowling
The problem with this really, really bad attitude that I'm carrying is that everybody else has it too. We're all grumpy.
Manifestations of it were evident today in my Legal Profession class when the prof asked a simple question and NOBODY would answer it. Mind you, there are over 150 people in that class - heck, there are about that many in ALL my classes. And nobody could read the sentence on the page he wanted to hear? He's a nice guy, people, cut him a break!
I reluctantly raised my hand to avoid an "anybody, anybody?" moment.
My classmates and I, we nod hello and wave and pretend to be happy to see each other. We're not, because we're not happy to be here at all. Those of us who were ALWAYS overprepared last term, now we show up with a scowl and an unread casebook.
We have a long weekend coming up, and I need a serious attitude adjustment then. Otherwise, May 10 will be really, really far away.
Manifestations of it were evident today in my Legal Profession class when the prof asked a simple question and NOBODY would answer it. Mind you, there are over 150 people in that class - heck, there are about that many in ALL my classes. And nobody could read the sentence on the page he wanted to hear? He's a nice guy, people, cut him a break!
I reluctantly raised my hand to avoid an "anybody, anybody?" moment.
My classmates and I, we nod hello and wave and pretend to be happy to see each other. We're not, because we're not happy to be here at all. Those of us who were ALWAYS overprepared last term, now we show up with a scowl and an unread casebook.
We have a long weekend coming up, and I need a serious attitude adjustment then. Otherwise, May 10 will be really, really far away.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Who thinks Yul is gay?
I saw Survivor once at Thanksgiving while up at the Yamasaki's, and I got a little hooked. Don't get me wrong - I hate all that reality TV crap, but Yul is yummilicious and I'm glad he won.
How do I know he won?
Because I was wrong - I'm not ready for school to start again. I trudge to class, I sit there - but my heart's not in it. And in interests of avoiding work, I've watched TV on the internet. Caught up on Desperate Housewives, and the new Knights of Prosperity is HILARIOUS.
Hopefully the internet connection holds, because all I want to do for the next few hours is lie on the couch and watch bad TV.
You know how it feels when a limb is amputated? No, of course I don't know personally either. But it must feel something like this, how I feel when apart from Dayton. I'm a mess. He called because I asked him to, and I love hearing his voice.
I can never tell how much of any illness is psychosomatic with me. I really did feel ill in Senegal, but the cold/flu was gone within hours of arriving at Dayton's. And now - is it really some nasty stomach bug that causes the pain, or do I just miss him a golden retriever left in a pick-up?
Only three straight episodes of NCIS can tell.
How do I know he won?
Because I was wrong - I'm not ready for school to start again. I trudge to class, I sit there - but my heart's not in it. And in interests of avoiding work, I've watched TV on the internet. Caught up on Desperate Housewives, and the new Knights of Prosperity is HILARIOUS.
Hopefully the internet connection holds, because all I want to do for the next few hours is lie on the couch and watch bad TV.
You know how it feels when a limb is amputated? No, of course I don't know personally either. But it must feel something like this, how I feel when apart from Dayton. I'm a mess. He called because I asked him to, and I love hearing his voice.
I can never tell how much of any illness is psychosomatic with me. I really did feel ill in Senegal, but the cold/flu was gone within hours of arriving at Dayton's. And now - is it really some nasty stomach bug that causes the pain, or do I just miss him a golden retriever left in a pick-up?
Only three straight episodes of NCIS can tell.
2 of 6
It's the first day back to school today. I'm halfway through one-third finished with law school.
It's not that I have a bad attitude about it - it's mostly enjoyable and I'm learning a lot, which is my favorite thing. But when I say, "The best thing about law school will be finishing," people look at me cross-eyed.
But why wouldn't that be the best thing? Maybe I'm just a Material Girl, but I like paychecks. I like having an office. I like responsibilities and coffee rooms.
I know that life as a lawyer will suck in major ways, but the coolest thing about it is that it's one of the most diverse fields - there are SO many different things I can do with a law degree. Don't like large law firms where I prostitute myself? Fine, I can do millions of other things. It's not like education where I can be a teacher ... or an administrator. Blech. Oh sure, with creativity in education I could be a consultant or an advisor or researcher - but I'm not creative. That's not my forte, and I never delude myself about it. And everything about education gives me a bad taste in my mouth now. I know too much. I've seen the sausages made, and there's nothing as sparkly as Oompa Loompas behind the curtain.
So here I go, on with school. Better get to class early to get prime seat - we actually have seating charts we sign the first day or so and we're stuck there for the next 15 weeks.
The classes I have this term are:
It's not that I have a bad attitude about it - it's mostly enjoyable and I'm learning a lot, which is my favorite thing. But when I say, "The best thing about law school will be finishing," people look at me cross-eyed.
But why wouldn't that be the best thing? Maybe I'm just a Material Girl, but I like paychecks. I like having an office. I like responsibilities and coffee rooms.
I know that life as a lawyer will suck in major ways, but the coolest thing about it is that it's one of the most diverse fields - there are SO many different things I can do with a law degree. Don't like large law firms where I prostitute myself? Fine, I can do millions of other things. It's not like education where I can be a teacher ... or an administrator. Blech. Oh sure, with creativity in education I could be a consultant or an advisor or researcher - but I'm not creative. That's not my forte, and I never delude myself about it. And everything about education gives me a bad taste in my mouth now. I know too much. I've seen the sausages made, and there's nothing as sparkly as Oompa Loompas behind the curtain.
So here I go, on with school. Better get to class early to get prime seat - we actually have seating charts we sign the first day or so and we're stuck there for the next 15 weeks.
The classes I have this term are:
- Legal Profession (I heard great things about the prof - it's a course required sometime before graduation, so I'm getting it out of the way now)
- Contracts II (heard horrible things about the prof, though this is more her area than the other class she taught - it will just be hard for me because my Contracts I prof was freakin awesome and nobody can live up to that) (and this will be my first prof here who isn't a white male)
- Constitutional Law (I'm excited about because I don't know jack about the Constitution)
- Property
- and continuing Legal Research and Writing.
The best thing is - no more Crim Law. Ever. Except international criminal law if I go to The Hague this summer, because that interests me. No more fathers killing children, no more sociopaths torturing innocents, no more racist shoot-outs. Woo hoo. That's good.
The worst thing - I had two really awesome profs last term, one of whom is moving to another school and the other doesn't ever teach any other class because he's the Dean. I'll never have them again, and that makes me sad.
OK, I'm delaying departure.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
to move or not to move?
Every time I park my truck in the neighbor's driveway and walk around the car in the driveway right in front of my apartment (the neighbor claimed it first), every time I have to go to the laundromat, every time I see dirty dishes in my sink because there's no dishwasher, every time I walk past the neighboring abandoned houses and smell the black mold, every time my undergrad neighbors make lots of noise - I want to move.
So I found a place about 5 miles away in a nice residential district. Holly, the homeowner, plans to leave the country for 6 months-1 year and is looking for somebody to rent her house. It's a nice house with recently refinished floors and painted, about the size of my house in Riverside, with a huge backyard and washer dryer, dishwasher, plenty of parking, real neighbors in occupied houses, etc. And, it's cheaper than my current situation. I keep trolling, looking around for something else, and it's all MORE expensive than where I am now.
The only downside is that I would then have to drive to campus and figure out parking. And she'd want a minimum 6-month commitment.
Anyway, I just went to chat with her again, and now she's not sure when she's leaving the country because she can't really leave until she has a job lined up where she's going. Which I totally understand and appreciate her honesty. And she's fine with me moving in anytime.
I just have to figure out if I really want to live with somebody for a while. Somebody who isn't Dayton. After my last roommate, I'm pretty cautious about it, though Holly definitely doesn't seem unpleasant like the last one. I'm just not thrilled about sharing a bathroom or living with animals that aren't Selma or any of that. It's just not nearly as appealing as it was 20 years ago for me, to have a roommate.
Her parents are an interesting cross-cultural pair (Norwegian and Dominican), and she definitely encourages me with Dayton. The bad news - she has a friend who brought her fiance here from Dominican Republic on a fiance visa and it took almost 2 years.
TWO YEARS. That totally sucks. I don't want to wait that long for Dayton to be here. I brought it up with her to say that we are applying for the visa and he may get here before I move out and is it cool for us both to live there for a bit and she was fine with that.
So, I'll probably move; I'm just not sure when.
So I found a place about 5 miles away in a nice residential district. Holly, the homeowner, plans to leave the country for 6 months-1 year and is looking for somebody to rent her house. It's a nice house with recently refinished floors and painted, about the size of my house in Riverside, with a huge backyard and washer dryer, dishwasher, plenty of parking, real neighbors in occupied houses, etc. And, it's cheaper than my current situation. I keep trolling, looking around for something else, and it's all MORE expensive than where I am now.
The only downside is that I would then have to drive to campus and figure out parking. And she'd want a minimum 6-month commitment.
Anyway, I just went to chat with her again, and now she's not sure when she's leaving the country because she can't really leave until she has a job lined up where she's going. Which I totally understand and appreciate her honesty. And she's fine with me moving in anytime.
I just have to figure out if I really want to live with somebody for a while. Somebody who isn't Dayton. After my last roommate, I'm pretty cautious about it, though Holly definitely doesn't seem unpleasant like the last one. I'm just not thrilled about sharing a bathroom or living with animals that aren't Selma or any of that. It's just not nearly as appealing as it was 20 years ago for me, to have a roommate.
Her parents are an interesting cross-cultural pair (Norwegian and Dominican), and she definitely encourages me with Dayton. The bad news - she has a friend who brought her fiance here from Dominican Republic on a fiance visa and it took almost 2 years.
TWO YEARS. That totally sucks. I don't want to wait that long for Dayton to be here. I brought it up with her to say that we are applying for the visa and he may get here before I move out and is it cool for us both to live there for a bit and she was fine with that.
So, I'll probably move; I'm just not sure when.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
more photos from Ghana
Aren't they adorable in their Sunday best, with Bibles in hand?
I'm not saying that the thing I love MOST about Dayton is how he takes care of me. I'm just saying that fried plantains and fresh pineapple do NOT suck. And his cooking is getting good - he made greens with fish for me a few times, my favorite thing. And he takes the time to take the bones out of the fish, which is major bonus points.
These are the cute little peppers that get mashed and put in all the dishes. The first day he cooked they wouldn't let me do anything, but by the next day I was strong enough to hold my own - so I got to clean the rice. Picking stones and bugs and such from the rice. After about an hour of Virgo-apex cleaning, I set it on the table ... but without looking, so I set it on the edge and it tipped over onto the ground. They could have treated me like the idiot I am at that point, but they didn't - they're so darn gracious. CeCe started scooping it up and then Dayton washed it thoroughly. Neither showed any sign of frustration at the idiot white woman taking over their living space.
To redeem myself the next day, I insisted I mash the peppers. I'd done it before when living at the guesthouse, when Isaac taught me how to cook. But, apparently my technique leaves something to be desired, and I got a little testy when Dayton tried to show me how to do it. I did it MY way and it turned out fine. That, and when I did the dishes, couldn't get Dayton to stop chuckling. He couldn't explain why, but it was something about his expectations of me and what I actually do.
Dayton was startled here, so wearing his game face. He's different with me in private than he is in public. Not really different, but he tends to watch things and be quieter in public, and he wears a ferocious scowl that Jenny would call game face.
Dayton was startled here, so wearing his game face. He's different with me in private than he is in public. Not really different, but he tends to watch things and be quieter in public, and he wears a ferocious scowl that Jenny would call game face.
This is the picture that provoked Mark (in Senegal) to say, "My, he's quite pretty."
Pretty? Not the adjective I would use.
I also finally realized who he reminds me of - an uncle of mine. I don't always agree with this uncle politically (and Dayton and I agree politically on almost everything), but I have never doubted his integrity in all things - he is, I realize now, the standard I set for all men. A standard none have met until now.
The thing that made me realize their similarity was when Dayton did a little dance in the house that set CeCe and me into gigglemania. Dayton seriously can't dance, which makes him probably the only African in that category. Gillian told me before she left camp last year, when we were all out drinking and dancing together, how much she loves that all African men can dance. I remember thinking she must not have been watching him. Oh, he shuffles fine - he doesn't lack a sense of rhythm completely. But I did have to tell him that it's a good thing that CeCe can dance (she's really, really good) and I can sing ok, because otherwise our family would have no talent at all. (By the way, I asked CeCe what musical instrument she would like to learn to play, and she said piano - which fits right into my vision of what things would be like for them here.)
Anyway, the thing about the little laugh-provoking dance move was that it was this unexpected silly thing. Dayton, like my uncle, is usually a pretty serious man. Oh we laugh and play around and all that, but they're earnest guys who work hard and do the right thing. So once when I was about 12 and we were in Denver, my uncle sat in the van in the parking lot waiting for us, and as we approached he picked up a guitar and started some silly off-key tune that humiliated me in public but was really, really funny.
My uncle was in Vietnam, in combat, and still gets startled by firecrackers and still has nightmares. He of all people in my family has reason for being a little whacky - but he is the sanest member on that side, bar none. He's the most stable, the hardest-working, the one who can always be counted on to do the right thing.
And I finally found a man for me who reaches that standard ... and isn't too proud to shake his booty to make us laugh.
the little family at Buduburam Refugee Settlement
On New Year's Day we went out to a nearby Ghanaian bar/restaurant. Just before exiting camp a man walked up and said to Dayton, "Taking the little family out?" "Yes."
This probably isn't the best picture - CeCe is pouting because I'm on my way to the airport without her. CeCe never pouts - she's one of the happiest people I know.
I won't pretend to really understand Liberian family dynamics. I did tell Dayton he needs to be nicer to CeCe, but that's my standard there. I never saw a Liberian parent being particularly nice to their children. I don't mean always shouting and beating them (though there's that), but rare is the interaction of communicating. On New Year's Eve when he went to Watch Night at his church, he said he'd leave CeCe behind with me. "But I don't want to be the boring old woman she has to stay with on New Year's Eve. Let her stay out with her friends." "She is a child and she does not complain," he responded. Seriously.
Like I said, I do give him parental advice - though that's mostly because CeCe is a girl and he really doesn't get how our brains work. But at the same time, like I said, CeCe is an extremely happy 10-year-old. She plays well with others, she skips instead of walks places, she's eager to help and please, she's polite and friendly, she adores school and learning, and she sings while working. She doesn't repress happiness. Dayton was right - she wouldn't complain about being stuck with me on New Year's Eve because she's generally happy and loves me. The only thing she complains about is me leaving - but we're all unhappy about that. So if she's such a happy well-adjusted pre-teen - why on earth would I mess with that? I look around at kids in the US and most of the privileged ones whine and complain and sit on their lazy asses are are generally intolerable. I don't agree with the general Western sentiment that children should be in charge of families and their environments. And maybe I do like it a little that with Dayton, I'm the good cop.
When I gave CeCe some Laughing Cow cheese I brought, she just about burst with joy. The girl is like Cinderella - even happy when she's washing dishes. Of course she isn't some perfect little robot - she doesn't do things exactly as Dayton wants exactly when. But I do remind him - she is 10 years old and her own person. And whenever he thinks SHE is stubborn, then he needs to look in a mirror.
I lost the battle
I actually fell asleep last night right in the middle of uploading pics and blogging. In the middle of a sentence with the laptop last night.
Guess I was tired.
I am ready to hit the books, and fortunately professors are willing to oblige with assignments for Monday. I will do better this semester.
Guess I was tired.
I am ready to hit the books, and fortunately professors are willing to oblige with assignments for Monday. I will do better this semester.
please don't cry
British Airways was late leaving Senegal on Thursday. I had actually arrived there two hours before, waking up at 3:30 a.m. and rolling out of bed and getting ready to go in 6 minutes when the taxi driver knocked. Gora had arranged the taxi, and Maguey had tried to make me upset about it, talking all kinds of trash about how Gora can't be trusted. Um, then why did you hire him as my teacher? None of that matters - while Gora himself didn't show up (he'd told the taxi driver he was riding with us to the airport), everything else about the taxi ride was perfect.
But BA was late. I asked a flight attendant halfway through the flight what to do - if there were any way to expedite through the lines to get to my gate on time. I had a two hour layover, but that's insufficient at the hellhole that is Heathrow. Why? Because you have to take a shuttle to a terminal and walk the width of the British Isle and take another shuttle and walk another continent and then stand in line for two hours waiting to go through security while the workers talk about their personal lives. Have I mentioned how much I hate Heathrow?
The flight attendant told me there was no way and it would have to be rescheduled.
I didn't believe him. So when we landed at 1:15, I still believed I could catch that 2:00 pm flight. So I ran over small children and the elderly, vaulting through the airport at Mach speed. I got to the security checkpoint and overcame my natural reluctance and asked for help. A woman was pointed out to me, and here was the beauty - when she saw my ticket she cut me to the front of the line of 1,000 travelers-a-waiting. I ran and ran and reached Virgin Atlantic desk with 17 minutes to spare ...
I said to the security guy there, now full of confidence at the wonders they can work, that I had a 2:00 flight to get on. "Oh, it's too late, you won't be able to get on."
"Please don't cry," he pleaded.
I wasn't crying; it's not my natural response. But as soon as he mentioned it, that sounded really good. I was so tired and the traveling wasn't even half over. I was hungry and needed caffeine.
The good news is, Virgin Atlantic has a flight every two hours. They rebooked me, and that gave me enough time to eat a $30 hamburger at TGIF and leisurely stroll to the flight.
I was a bit concerned about getting into NYC two hours later - I'm never thrilled about arriving someplace dark, and the shuttles stop running at 8 pm. But also getting so tired that I became rather Zen about it all. As I stood waiting for my bags at JFK before customs, a Lebanese woman beside me struck up a conversation. I asked if she knew how much a cab would cost to Manhattan, and the next thing I know a Belgian-South African woman behind me suggested we share a cab and everything worked out well.
I got to Kate's house at a fairly decent hour and she fed me yummy Chinese food as her cats entertained me. She said I look like me, just older. 23 years older, in fact. I think she's surprised that I turned out to be a fairly normal person, and we had a good time talking until late in the night.
NYC is great, and the bakery in Kate's building was amazing. Good thing I was there only one morning, or I would have gained 500 pounds trying everything.
But BA was late. I asked a flight attendant halfway through the flight what to do - if there were any way to expedite through the lines to get to my gate on time. I had a two hour layover, but that's insufficient at the hellhole that is Heathrow. Why? Because you have to take a shuttle to a terminal and walk the width of the British Isle and take another shuttle and walk another continent and then stand in line for two hours waiting to go through security while the workers talk about their personal lives. Have I mentioned how much I hate Heathrow?
The flight attendant told me there was no way and it would have to be rescheduled.
I didn't believe him. So when we landed at 1:15, I still believed I could catch that 2:00 pm flight. So I ran over small children and the elderly, vaulting through the airport at Mach speed. I got to the security checkpoint and overcame my natural reluctance and asked for help. A woman was pointed out to me, and here was the beauty - when she saw my ticket she cut me to the front of the line of 1,000 travelers-a-waiting. I ran and ran and reached Virgin Atlantic desk with 17 minutes to spare ...
I said to the security guy there, now full of confidence at the wonders they can work, that I had a 2:00 flight to get on. "Oh, it's too late, you won't be able to get on."
"Please don't cry," he pleaded.
I wasn't crying; it's not my natural response. But as soon as he mentioned it, that sounded really good. I was so tired and the traveling wasn't even half over. I was hungry and needed caffeine.
The good news is, Virgin Atlantic has a flight every two hours. They rebooked me, and that gave me enough time to eat a $30 hamburger at TGIF and leisurely stroll to the flight.
I was a bit concerned about getting into NYC two hours later - I'm never thrilled about arriving someplace dark, and the shuttles stop running at 8 pm. But also getting so tired that I became rather Zen about it all. As I stood waiting for my bags at JFK before customs, a Lebanese woman beside me struck up a conversation. I asked if she knew how much a cab would cost to Manhattan, and the next thing I know a Belgian-South African woman behind me suggested we share a cab and everything worked out well.
I got to Kate's house at a fairly decent hour and she fed me yummy Chinese food as her cats entertained me. She said I look like me, just older. 23 years older, in fact. I think she's surprised that I turned out to be a fairly normal person, and we had a good time talking until late in the night.
NYC is great, and the bakery in Kate's building was amazing. Good thing I was there only one morning, or I would have gained 500 pounds trying everything.
Friday, January 05, 2007
hours and hours
Now, it's three hours I'm counting down. Three hours until I can go to bed. I missed an appropriate napping time, so now I'm holding out for a reasonable sleep time so that I can sleep through the night for at least 8 hours for the first time in a week.
I'm home. No more counting down the hours of plane time left, of layovers. It feels weird to be be back and feels like I've been here much longer than five hours.
I'm posting my pics to the shutterfly account; if you want to see and don't remember the address let me know and I'll give it to you. I'll try to post lots here, too, but I'm not oozing with patience tonight. I'm just killing time until I can go to sleep, as the content of following blog entries will clearly reveal.
I'm home. No more counting down the hours of plane time left, of layovers. It feels weird to be be back and feels like I've been here much longer than five hours.
I'm posting my pics to the shutterfly account; if you want to see and don't remember the address let me know and I'll give it to you. I'll try to post lots here, too, but I'm not oozing with patience tonight. I'm just killing time until I can go to sleep, as the content of following blog entries will clearly reveal.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Slok survivor
Slok is a regional airways here in West Africa. It is known for being a dangerous mode of transportation and is now based out of The Gambia because after three fatal crashes last year it can no longer be based in Nigeria. What does it say about a corporation that it is too crappy to be Nigerian? It says a lot.
But I survived. I went to Ghana for five days, and that was better for everybody.
I couldn't reach Dayton before I went because his phone had been stolen and the cell towers are so bad there anyway that I couldn't get through to anybody to give him messages. I did get through to Fred in Liberia who told me to go anyway and he was right.
The thing about being with Dayton is he takes really good care of me. He's not Mr. Romance and he doesn't always say and do what and when I want, but he is absolutely awesome about feeding me and hauling water and all those other things. My hero immediately finds me a toilet when my stomach rebels against holding anything in. I said it was embarrassing and he said No, this is what I must do, taking care of you is my responsibility.
Anyway, since he didn't know I was coming there was nobody at the airport to meet me and I paid an exorbitant 40 dollars to get to camp. But the ride was the best I ever had in Ghana - the roads are in MUCH better shape now and it was the nicest taxi I ever took and the best driver. Things are looking good in Ghana - lots of new construction, and it's clean and all that. It was really nice to see.
So I got to Dayton's house and there was a lock on the door and the neighbors I knew weren't there. Somebody called for CeCe and she came around the corner. When she saw me she shrieked and sprinted to me, literally jumping into my arms and almost knocking me over. Later she asked if I would bring her home with me, her father an optional accompaniment, but that's another story.
She took me over to the basketball court where he was playing his OldTimers game. CeCe said he'd be happy to see me and she was right.
It was a good long weekend overall, though we had a few big fights. Mostly we sat around and talked. I was really lazy and let them take care of me, mostly because I didn't have the strength to argue with them about it. It's a life of leisure, and it was really good to see them both.
And now I'm ready to blow this continent and head back to the Stateside stress.
But I survived. I went to Ghana for five days, and that was better for everybody.
I couldn't reach Dayton before I went because his phone had been stolen and the cell towers are so bad there anyway that I couldn't get through to anybody to give him messages. I did get through to Fred in Liberia who told me to go anyway and he was right.
The thing about being with Dayton is he takes really good care of me. He's not Mr. Romance and he doesn't always say and do what and when I want, but he is absolutely awesome about feeding me and hauling water and all those other things. My hero immediately finds me a toilet when my stomach rebels against holding anything in. I said it was embarrassing and he said No, this is what I must do, taking care of you is my responsibility.
Anyway, since he didn't know I was coming there was nobody at the airport to meet me and I paid an exorbitant 40 dollars to get to camp. But the ride was the best I ever had in Ghana - the roads are in MUCH better shape now and it was the nicest taxi I ever took and the best driver. Things are looking good in Ghana - lots of new construction, and it's clean and all that. It was really nice to see.
So I got to Dayton's house and there was a lock on the door and the neighbors I knew weren't there. Somebody called for CeCe and she came around the corner. When she saw me she shrieked and sprinted to me, literally jumping into my arms and almost knocking me over. Later she asked if I would bring her home with me, her father an optional accompaniment, but that's another story.
She took me over to the basketball court where he was playing his OldTimers game. CeCe said he'd be happy to see me and she was right.
It was a good long weekend overall, though we had a few big fights. Mostly we sat around and talked. I was really lazy and let them take care of me, mostly because I didn't have the strength to argue with them about it. It's a life of leisure, and it was really good to see them both.
And now I'm ready to blow this continent and head back to the Stateside stress.
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