we got 15

As I was out watering the yard (which I HATE doing anywhere, but whatever), I noticed that two houses down is for sale. So, I went over to peek in the windows.

A Yorkie viciously barked and a woman came out of the nearby FEMA trailer. She thought I was somebody else, but graciously showed me her house for sale.

It's for sale because her husband is divorcing and she can't afford to buy him out. Today is their 17th wedding anniversary. I said, because what else could I say?, "I'm so sorry." "Yeah, me too. I'm sorry, it's just a really bad day all aroun for me. But, I have my health, and two wonderful children."

It's $240,000, which is just land value she says. It's totally gutted and down to frame, and it even looked newly wired and plumbed. It's 2200 square feet with three bedrooms plus a den and a nice fenced-in backyard with a pool which is actually in good shape. I love it. I want it. I can't have it. I don't ever want to be in her position.

They got 15 inches, which it took me a few minutes to understand what she was saying. 15 inches of floodwater. Did 15 destroy 17?

Earlier I went to Norwood's house cuz I miss him and wondered how his house is doing - it looks great - he just put in all new windows. He's insulating and sheetrocking starting tonight. I wish my weekend weren't so packed, but I'll get over there for some of the fun times.

My best times in New Orleans so far were when I was staying with Tami, trying a new nationality of dining each evening, and volunteering at Habitat with Norwood and Kim and Keith and the boys. That's real New Orleans. Over here right by First Choice Law School, it's people from Georgia and Alabama and Michigan and Arkansas. It's not New Orleans and it's not even Louisiana.

There are such benefits to living a 5 minute walk to campus, and it's great for my environmental and karmic conscience. But part of me wants to go live next door to Norwood or other New Orleanians. Real New Orleanians. After this year I'll only have class four days a week, so maybe I can justify the commute more. Maybe I'll convince Norwood to let me move in. Kim would let me. Maybe I can just live in his FEMA trailer when he moves out - it's about the size of my apartment now.

best walk home ever

Why? Well, it wasn't the four casebooks I was hauling home, with designs to have The Most Productive Weekend Ever (despite plans to be a Sunpie groupie on Sunday and a Test Prep Ho on Saturday).

It was because the one house on my walk that ALWAYS has trash blocking the sidewalk was all cleaned up today. They even seemed to sweep up the broken mirror and the cable ends that I leap to avoid. Beauty.

And, I got to WALK ON The Most Beautiful Sidewalk Ever. Some guy called it that - clearly the guy who poured it - as I walked around when it was fresh. He shouted that from his pickup as he was driving past, so it was a little strange and stalkeresque, but now I get it. It is a beautiful sidewalk. Today was the first time I've ever walked from or to school without a number of barriers to get around. Wow. Does this mean hurdles in my life are evaporating? Is it a sign? One can only hope, though I will be on pins and needles for the next four weeks until my writing assignment is returned.

Smarmy Australian guy gave me the eyebrows today. Twice. Very creepy. He's spent too long in the former Soviet Union (we were in Russian class). I think he was just trying to appear to not be a stuck-up snob, but too late. When he says things like, "This goddamn fucking city that deserves to be sucked into the ocean!" he's blown it with any chance of friendship with me - especially since the other student in there is a study in kind friendliness. I actually got suckered into speaking in Russian class today and the instructor (Belorussian Mafia guy) was taken aback at my accent. I'm obsessive about having a better accent than most Americans in every language I learn, which is to my detriment actually - because then people think I speak it a lot better than I do. I don't. I suck. I just don't sound like an American.

Which sometimes is more than enough.

life cycle of the mosquito

I hate false information! When I was at Habitat, the "medic" said, when I suggested that we not leave plastic lying around with water because mosquitos lay eggs there, that it takes about 48 days for them to hatch, so it's not a problem to not worry about it.

No, you moron. It can be 48 HOURS. http://www.mosquitoes.org/LifeCycle.html Or 10 days, it depends on the species and conditions. After hatching, they live in water a few days. A FEW DAYS.

The reason I'm obsessed? Well, besides all the confirmed West Nile cases in the area, I have a ton of mosquito bites because mosquitos are outside my front door like paparazzi around Madonna in Malawi right now. I finally bought some spray, and they seem to have taken the hint even before I sprayed.

feeling stressed?

Then how about you get another job and add an additional academic program? Or, is that just me?

My job starts next week, and it's two nights a week four hours at a time. The lesson plan book is so heavy I don't need to buy weights - I'll just carry it around. I have a bucketload of paperwork to do for it, but later. Not now. I'm so tired I just want to curl up with a good book, but I have bucketloads of homework.

I'm toying with the idea of adding a Masters degree program to my JD. In international development. The int. dev. program here just got a $4.3 million federal grant to examine child slave labor in African cocoa farms. OK, what in that grant does NOT appeal to me? I like money in the millions, I advocate for children, I'm opposed to slavery, I love Africa, and cocoa is the basis of my existence most days. So, I was thinking about starting up a conversation with them, maybe do some legwork for them somehow, and then I saw it - I could do a joint JD/MS in International Development. I emailed a law prof who is affiliated with them and I'll ask him questions if I can.

Why? Hello, do you know me? I have a good reason. Because none of my degrees have an "S" in them. I have a BA, and MEd, and after another 100K a JD. No S. Why not an MS?

No, but seriously - all the core classes in the Int Dev MS are things that interest me AND best of all - if I take summer school courses (which I was going to do anyway, though I need at least a month of legal experience this summer as well), I could finish BOTH degrees in three years, and hopefully not much more money (because how much more money can they extract from me??). If I do a joint degree, then the law school excuses like 10 credits and the other department excuses like 10, so it could be three years without killing myself.

What's the benefit? Well, nothing right away, since it's not what I want to do at first. But eventually, once debts are paid and all that, I'd love to do some legal work in developing countries. And the real benefit? Maybe there are hot guys over there in the International Development Program who are of legal age.

OK, so this job, it will almost pay for my trip to Senegal by the end of November. That doesn't suck. Because what that means is ANOTHER FUN TRIP NEXT SUMMER!! I think this job will be as tedious as the home instruction I did last year, so I have to keep my eye on the prize. Cameroon! Cameroon! Cameroon! (Not that I really care about going to Cameroon - I'm just running out of West African nations that won't kill me.) I should be realistic though and realize that what it will take me six weeks to earn now I can probably earn later in about four days as a lawyer. So, if it doesn't enhance the quality of my life, I won't keep doing it after this time.

And once I'm settled in here, I can be more streamlined with my time management. I just put up the last storage device (I got a slew at Lowe's which I always forget is SO CLOSE), so I'm almost done with all that and ready to actually just BE home instead of BUILD home.

piety with parsley in my falafel

I went to Pyramids today - it was a really long day of class and meetings since 8:30 this morning until 8:10 tonight, interspersed with moving, but most my really important paper due (more on that below). So I went to Pyramids for a quick fix.

Yes, I knew it's Ramadan. But I figured if the restaurant is open that it's not in bad taste for me to eat there. I'm supporting Ramadan indirectly, but supporting the owners who are fasting.

OK, so I just really wanted some falafel. So I'm an infidel.

The owner saw me from the kitchen. He's usually friendly in that sort of friendly to everybody way. But today he came and sat and told me all about the Koran.

"Jesus spoke his first day of life. Does your Bible tell you that? We have it there. He was a prophet, one of the greats. Everybody is born Muslim, but if their parents are Jewish or Christian, they lead them that way. But everybody is born Muslim. Jesus was Muslim."

And so on.

Now, Ahmed if you're reading, don't be embarrassed like you are about the woman in Jordan who yelled at me for drinking a soda during Ramadan. No single Muslim or Arab represents anybody else.

This is what happens when people fast for 30 days, working over a hot stove all day and reading the Koran all night. They get pious, they get devout, and they want to share their enthusiasm. They also get short-tempered and lose their attention span - more car crashes during Ramadan in Turkey than any other time.

And I'm such a bad listener, with no excuse for my short attention span, and I kept thinking, "When will he go away so I can drink that Diet Coke she just dropped off?" I'm not drinking or eating in front of somebody going through Ramadan. Anymore.

But it's so cool that all sort of different people with different kinds of faiths can communicate.

And then the kitchen worker came out after I placed my order, apparently sizing me up before he fried my falafel. And yeah, he could go under my cute boys post.

So, I spent much of the day continuing to retool my memo due today. And now I wish I'd done more, because a 2L told me that last year she got a D on that assignment. A D. And she says that this instructor gives a lot of D's and F's. OH MY GOD. Now I'm pious. This is not my former cushy existence, where an A- was cause for crisis. Oh no, those days are long past.

Well, it's only 15% of my grade, and the next assignment is 40%, so I'll do better on it. I hope. The thing is that I'm not in school with slackers and idiots. Damn it.

My job will actually begin next week, and it will be two evenings a week, no weekends, and longer - so more money overall. My goal had been to use my time better during the days, so this will force me to. I think I can do it - I'll prep on weekends and then about six hours during the week - that's reasonable. My supervisor was very nearly begging me today, which is always a nice position to be in. The pay doesn't suck too bad, and the hours are good, and I think it'll be really easy for me, and it will be some nice extra cash. But really, it's about perspective - my whole life cannot be law school or I will go insane. This is an opportunity for something different. And I'll see how I like it, and if I don't, then I won't do it again.

Before and after him begging me, I realized how I enjoy the people all around me in my Legal Research and Writing class. We are this fluid support group and we make each other laugh. It's the only class with any group work at all, and all of us are in other classes with each other, so it's the one "fun" class. Fun in that root-canal kind of way.

So, I've brought everything over from the other apartment except my maps and plastic bags. I have some unpacking to do tonight, and I've got Marc Anthony salsaing me through it.

Oh, so I have hot water from two of three taps, which is a big step forward. AND, I was able to rush back here quick enough to turn the power back off before Entergy got here. He pulled up as I was walking away to class, and that was cool. Including seeing that two of the fuses are totally blown in the box.

"Robin, it's me again. Um, this electricity - was it the same contractor? Did they just rewire the whole house? Um, there are some problems. Want to hear them now or later?"

When I asked her if she wanted the check I gave her before to be a deposit or rent for October, she said, "I don't know your financial situation. Do whatever is best for you and let me know." That's the kind of thing that I would expect of a Jordanian, that sort of helpfulness and devoutness manifested in love of humans. So, there's my Arab stereotype of the day, and I'll let it stand.

cute boys

There's a very cute boy who sits next to me in Torts - he introduced himself a few weeks back. Cute like a golden Lab puppy, with an adorable accent, and a smile that's like when you come back to the dog you left sitting in your car in the grocery store parking lot.

Today he wasn't there, and when I saw him later he looked tired and disheveled - after he greeted me, I heard him say to another that he had been working on the big assignment due today/tomorrow. The young girls, they adore him - he always has a flock of blond thangs surrounding him.

Man, I'm loving that I was all stressed about that big assignment at the end of last week in order to get questions in to the instructor before they cut us off at noon Saturday, and I rewrote the whole thing from scratch yesterday. All I have is some more fine-tuning tonight and tomorrow, but then I have to be done because it's time to move on. The more I revise the sentences the worse they become, which is why I rewrote the whole damn thing. I'm not going to do it again. I'm losing perspective.

Anyway, then I left out the building down the street, heading home, and I heard my last name being shouted. There he was, looking like Selma when I've left her somewhere behind, except more sheepish then Selma ever usually looks. (Selma after all is the goddess around which the world revolves, so why would she ever look sheepish?)

Here is the part that's interesting that I can't quite figure out - what it is that he wants from me. He was flustered and shy and bashful, but eventually he got it out that he wants to know if we can talk about Torts someday. "I've lost all my pride and all my dignity." Um, how can I help with that? (I'm a dignity and pride-stealer, if you were to ask my most recent ex-boyfriend, who is currently all too mired up in being angry at me to realize I'm out. Trying to scold somebody who just broke up with you doesn't do much - but listening hasn't been his strength of late.)

Has he never asked a classmate to a study group before? He mumbled something about me being smart and liking to hang out with me - certainly neither of which is true of late. He had overheard me say to someone that I used to be a teacher, and from what he said when he introduced himself to me, that was interesting to him.

Maybe his grandmother was a teacher, and he looks to me to satisfy that nurturing "It's gonna be all right, Lab puppy" role.

Oh, I'm being too rude here. He is such a sweet kid, and I only wish he were 15 years older - of course then he'd be married to a Southern Belle with 7 children and a flourishing law practice.

We are all lost. Well, many of us are lost. Ahmed asked me this weekend if I'm going to drop out of law school based on my post last week - but of course I can't afford to. I'm in it. Period. I can't afford to get out. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't rip me apart and shred my dignity. Maybe I'm just hiding it better than Lab Puppy and Southern Belles. I read somewhere today that 80% of all law students don't get a single A their first year.

THAT WILL DESTROY ME.

But we're all like this. All of us here were good students or we wouldn't have gotten in. We are pushed outside our comfort zone and feel lost and stupid and in the bottom third. Today I sat in Civil Procedure and wondered what the hell he was talking about - and this isn't the first time this has happened. And he's my best prof.

OK, great, the geniuses who didn't hook up the electric water heater when they renovated the apartment are here today, and two hours later they haven't done shit except just now blow the fuse in my living room so I have no light. Great.

So I just went out to talk to the quite cute construction boy out there, and we discovered that actually my living room lights are run by the power in the other apartment. We think. And I don't know whose apartment they're hooking the water heater up to, but right now I don't care too much. I just want to wash dishes with warm water and we can sort the rest out later.

I have a splitting headache which isn't going away even with ibuprofen. I went to the gym this morning and worked out hard, but now I feel so out of it that I remembered why I don't like to do that in the morning - it doesn't make me feel good. I revised my paper, but now the most pressing thing is reading 35 pages of French court documents (yeah, in French), and I know I can't do that even without a headache, and I don't really want to waste all my paper and ink on it, so maybe I won't do it. I have errands I need to run but I don't want to leave my apartment unattended while they're working. And I can't really take a nap with them here. And tomorrow I have to be gone all day so that the STUPID ENERGY COMPANY can come sometime during the day, whenever they want, to hook up my electricity. Here's the gem - I have to have the main breaker off until they do. But if I happen to be home and turn the breaker on because I want something like toast or light or air conditioning, then they will not just knock on my door and ask me to take care of it, but they will go away and not come back until I call again with 20 minutes on hold.

I will be really glad when things are all settled. Until, of course, I move again.

the hardest thing I've ever done, again

And this time he's deleted off my phone.

This time I will remember why.

This time I will force myself to stop thinking of our life together that will not be. I will shred the immigration documents and stop listening to BBC Africa.

This time I will not feel guilt.

This time I will not allow myself to miss him.

This time "sorry" will not be enough.

still working for shower

The good news is that it's not difficult to fix.

The bad news is, my hot water heater is electric with a yearly operating cost of approximately $410 and it's in the attic above my neighbor's unit (who doesn't live there yet). And for some brilliant reason, the contractor (yeah, the same one who put in the deadbolts upside-down and the face plates misaligned, which Ahmed fixed) didn't run power to the water heater. There's power to my A/C unit, right next to it, but no - not even the indication of a thought of - power to the water heater.

They also had the valve closed, which the plumber had the skill and training to turn counterclockwise so now at least I have water pressure. It's a cold, cold shower, but it's a shower.

the stupidest $25 I ever spent

Yes, even stupider than the $20 I dropped on the pointless fortune teller.

I locked myself out of my apartment. Frantic phone calls to landruler, who is at work until tonight, but whose husband would wait for me if I could catch a cab over to their house in the Quarter to get the keys.

I don't trust my luck to drive today, but once I do, I'm making copies and hiding a set. Oh - in my school locker! Now, that's just smart. I have to have my ID to get into the building after hours and on weekends, but finding somebody to get me in shouldn't be that hard in case of emergency.

At least it was cheaper than breaking in and replacing a window or calling a locksmith.

Jenny frame of mind

I look at the clock and it says 1:40 pm ... and I think, "Oh my soul! The day is nearly gone! How have I spent the past 7 hours?!" (Of course in this case, it's job training, packing and moving and unpacking, and shopping.)

And then I put myself in a Jenny frame of mind. And I think, "1:40 p.m. Breakfast time. The day lies ahead of me."

It's all in the perspective.