Essence of Negligence

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2010-03-07T12:07:00.001-08:00

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Book 7 Mania - SPOILERS AHEAD

2007-08-15T00:46:00.000-07:00

Those of you weirdos who haven't finished the book, be warned! Here be spoilers. Welcome to the post-Book 7 post! This might all be a little random and disjointed, but here are some of my thoughts.

Working backwards here, but I really liked the epilogue. I know we all wanted every single little detail, but that seems unrealistic and silly. The epilogue did a great job - I thought - at giving us just enough of a glimpse into the characters' lives to see that they end up happy. And I think the sort of normalcy of it underscored the significance of Harry's choice: he chose to have the relatively normal, loving family that he'd always wanted, rather than taking off with the Elder wand. It brings it back to what Dumbledore tells him after the "dies," about how so few people have looked into the Mirror or Erised and seen something so pure as what Harry saw. So it's kind of funny that some people have complained that the epilogue is boring - isn't that what Harry wanted?

The entire book was great, but a couple of quotations that I especially loved. Among them:
1. "NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" (Mrs. Weasley)
2. "Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" (Ron)
3. "So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left --" (Ron). (I assume that the omitted word is "testicle." Am I wrong? Is there a more appropriate, but less funny, noun that also fits? Because I think that "Merlin's saggy left testicle" might be my new swear phrase.)
4. "'Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?' Harry interrupted again.
'So he can sneak up on people,' said Ron. 'Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking . . . '"
5. Also - this isn't a quotation in the same way - but I loved "Here lies Dobby, a free elf."

I loved the way that the situation with Snape played out. One thing that's so great about the books is that, from the very beginning, all of the characters have been flawed, including the adults. Everyone loves a good anti-hero, and I think that's why we all love Snape, even with all his imperfections. Which brings me to another point, how I liked really seeing, at the end, what Dumbledore meant about how love is more powerful than any magic. And how Voldemort was blind to that fact, how he never realized that abusing Draco would cause the Malfoys to betray him.

Also . . . Alia and I bounced this around a little, so I'll go ahead and put evidence of our nerdiness on the web. People, do we think it's possible that Harry and Ginny's little excursions at the end of Book 6 might have gone a little farther than we'd previously suspected? Just take a look, for example, at pages 89-90.

In non-Harry Potter news, I just wanted to say a special hello to Jessa!! Congrats honey!

A Brief Digression

2007-07-18T14:22:00.000-07:00

I know I said I'd be posting about Harry Potter, but indulge me in this extremely brief vent. The Bar Exam is in a week and, obviously, it's taking up like 95% of my time. I've been doing a lot of practice multiple choice questions, and I'd like to comment on something that I find extremely annoying -- the use of names in the practice questions.

Here's the thing: if you need to name some people for a hypothetical ("Jane and Doe are riding their bikes when Bob, who is driving negligently, strikes Jane with his car") it is nice to use names that are (1) easy to remember and (2) easily identifiable as male or female. Because if "Griddle, Ozarka, and Blue" are involved in a conspiracy and then all of a sudden "she decides to confess" I HAVE NO BLOODY IDEA WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT. Is "Griddle" a woman's name? Or Ozarka? Blue? Seriously, it's super confusing and it annoys me that I have to spend time just figuring out who is who, when I should be figuring out who is liable.

Here are some of the actual names used in some of the practice questions:
1. Aiken, Bacon & Cogg
2. Panda
3. Menachem
4. Rogan Josh (yes, this is the name of an Indian food)
5. Orizaba
6. Biddlebaum

Things unknown . . . .

2007-07-18T00:55:00.001-07:00

Okay, anonymous poster's theory (see Comment to previous post) would tie up a LOT of loose ends, but here are some others that I think are interesting:

1. JK has said that it's very important that Harry has his mother's eyes. No idea yet what that could be about. She also said that Lily's wand was especially good for charms.

2. JK has said one important question no one has asked is why Dumbledore had James' invisibility cloak. Was D there the night Harry's parents died??

3. What was with the "gleam of triumph" in D's eyes when Voldie was able to touch Harry without being burned? My guess is that this indicated Voldie had become more human/killable.

4. There was one character that was going to be cut from Movie 5, but JK advised that doing so might create problems for later movies. If you've seen Movie 5, you know that Kreacher is in the movie, but he has no part of the plotline, so everyone is guessing that JK was talking about him. What will Kreacher do in Book 7? I'm wondering if maybe he'll help them find the locket.

5. What will become of Percy?

6. This relates to the Snape-is-connected-to-Lily thing, but why would Voldie have spared Lily?

There's a full list of open questions listed on Mugglenet.

Just for Dean - will Harry survive?

2007-07-17T00:34:00.000-07:00

Oh, the speculation! Will poor Harry lose his own life in the fight against Voldie? People seem pretty split on this issue; I'd say at least a third of the HP readers think Harry is going to die. Dan Radcliffe has even said that he hopes Harry dies. And that when he dies, he's naked. And cuddling with a horse.

All that aside, I'm pretty skeptical. Again, not putting it past JK, but it just doesn't make sense. People keep saying that this is a "christ-story" as evidence that Harry will die, but I don't find HP to have nearly as much connection with Christian imagery and metaphor as many other books. And even many blatant christ-stories don't include the death of the savior. Case in point: Aragorn, LotR. He's tested, he has to sacrifice, but he lives through the book and gets to boink Liv Tyler. What I mean is that there are many ways to tell a story about a prophesised redeemer, and many of the ones we're familiar with don't include the hero being killed.

But my real skepticism comes from something much more technical. Throughout the novels, we only see what Harry sees - with 2 exceptions. (1) The interaction between the human and magical ministers (2) Snape's conversation with Bellatrix and Narcissa. Aside from thos conversations, we have no insight beyond what Harry experiences. If you're writing a book that's almost a first-person narrative without actually being in first-person, what do you write when the character dies. Would JK just switch to a more omniscient voice in the final chapters? Wouldn't that be obvious and annoying? Would she write a bunch of Book 7 like that? It wouldn't seem to flow very well with the other 6 books, would it. Technically, I can't think of a good way to make that work (which certainly doesn't say much.) Maybe have the very last words of the next-to-final chapter be Harry's dying thoughts? (JK has said that the very last chapter is sort of a prologue with info about what happens in the lives of the characters in future years.)

I think what's most likely is that Harry will have to sacrifice something really, really big. Ginny? Ron? Or maybe something we haven't even thought of. Regardless, let's all keep out fingers crossed that I'm right, and that Harry defeats Voldemort, marries Ginny, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Harry Potter Countdown: 5 days to go

2007-07-16T00:55:00.000-07:00

Theory #1: Ron will die.

I know that would totally suck, but it kind of makes sense. JK is pretty good at foreshadowing, and I can't help but think about the first Harry-Voldie confrontation. The way it played out was that Ron sacrificed himself so that Harry could go on, and circumstances prevented Hermione from taking the final step with Harry. That exchange does seem to kind of define the relationship between them. So I wouldn't be surprised if Ron dies, Hermione for some reason can't go on, and - I think - Harry will have to do the final killing of Voldie without either of them.

Theory #2: Snape is somehow connected to Lily Potter.

This has been pretty played out on the net, but I think it makes sense. Dumbledore told Harry that after Snape realized the prophesy meant Voldie would go after the Potters, he tried to fix things and ended up betraying the Death Eaters. Why would Snape give a rat's ass if Lily and James got killed? We know he hated James. But the memory in the Penseive (the sort of put on aloofness between Lily and Snape) is good evidence that there's some connection. Are they related? Was Snape in love with Lily? Who knows. Also notice (if you're re-reading this week) that when Harry questioned D about Snape's allegiance, D seemed to be considering something before re-affirming that Snape is a good guy. Perhaps he was considering whether or not to let Harry in on his mother's connection with Snape

Theory #3: Hagrid will die.

I have no basis for this in anything. Just a gut feeling.

Theory #4: Fawkes will somehow help Harry on his journey/ Harry is the heir of Gryffindor.

I guess these are two separate issues but - hey! - it's my blog. The heir if Gryffindor idea is also tossed around the net a lot, and while it might seem too obvious it certainly would make sense.

Theory #5: Neville was present when Harry's parents were killed.

Here's the thing. We know Nev's parents were powerful, very strong wizards. This seems to lead to strong wizard children. Nev is extremely forgetful, and JK has casually thrown in the fact that an overly powerful memory charm can permanently damage a person's abilities, notably their memory. Note also that Nev can see thestrals, and when asked who he's seen die he very evasively answers that he's seen his grandfather die (or was it his uncle?). Even if Voldie, after hearing the beginning of the prohesy, felt it more likely that Harry was his nemesis, you'd think he would at least plan to kill both babies, just to be safe. Why not grab Neville and then head on over to the Potters? The only kink in this theory is that witnessing death as a baby doesn't seem to be "witnessing death" in the way that gives rise to thestral-seeing. Although JK herself has said that it's about when you see death and it "sinks in."

Theory #6: Each book has had Harry coming into contact with one of the six horcruxes.

There are six horcruxes for the first 6 books, and already we can pin down that in three of the six books, Harry comes into contact with a horcrux --
Book 1: ??
Book 2: the diary.
Book 3: ??
Book 4: Nagini
Book 5: the locket
Book 6: the ring
Book 7: The part that is Voldie?
So the guess is that the cup and the unknown something-of-Gryffindor-or-Ravenclaw are in Books 1 and 3.

More tomorrow - what are your theories?

Farewell, feathered friend

2007-04-13T22:59:00.000-07:00

So much has been said/written about the ridiculousness that is the Western media that there's pretty much nothing I can add. So I usually make my smartass comments on the news to myself. Or, you know, over a frosty Dr. Pepper with my pal Jon Stewart. I have, however, often mentioned my love-hate relationship with CNN.com. I love it because it's hysterical, in that so-screwed-up-it's-funny kinda way. "The Iraqi Parliament got bombed but the main stories are Imus getting fired and something else about Anna Nicole Smith's baby?? Those crazies at CNN!" On the other hand, I hate it for the same reasons. But, I do read CNN.com daily, along with a couple other news sites.

Despite my attempt at keeping mum, I have to comment on this story. In case clicking on the hyperlink is too much effort (how lazy! ugly baby judges you!) I'll give you the recap: Dick Cheney's plane hit a bird but everyone was okay. That's it. That's the entire story. So I ask you: why was this a link off of CNN's homepage? Is there really nothing else going on in the world? Furthermore, most of the story has nothing to do with the bird. Let me share with you a highlite from this gem of journalistic expression:

"Cheney posed for pictures with little girls while Liz Cheney secured a doll with a Western cowboy hat and get-up."

Ummm . . . . ooookay. That's . . . . good to know? Mildly entertaining? What? What am I supposed to be getting from this, CNN? Because what I'm getting is that, somewhere, there's a lower level CNN.com writer with a wicked sense of humor who enjoys making a mockery of the ridiculous assignments he or she is given. (Note to self: make friends with this person).

I also love this comment from Cheney's people:

"A bird hit the right engine of the plane upon landing . . . . He was told after he delivered his remarks."

I love love LOVE that, apparently, Cheney's people weren't sure how to tell him that his plane killed a bird. "Oh, poor Dick. He's going to be so devastated! I mean, it was just an innocent bird - oh, how are we going to tell him! He won't be able to handle this! Wait - I know! We'll just wait to tell him until after he makes his speech. That way he won't start crying in the middle of the big event! Whew. Glad we dodged that bullet."

i carry your heart

2007-04-03T12:28:00.000-07:00

It feels strange being almost done with law school. As fellow law students and former law students know, your first two years or so are pretty good at narrowing your vision. It's hard to see past the next semester's final exams, or the upcoming set of interviews, let alone think about being done altogether. And then, all of a sudden, it's the beginning of April and you have less than six weeks left of the bizarre experience that is law school.

I have two good friends planning to start law school in the Fall, and it's funny to see them at the beginning of the process. They're both very excited. I remember that. During your first month of law school, the excitement is gradually replaced with terror. And sleepiness. And lots and lots of coffee.

I'm not going to wax poetic here about the entire experience, the pros and cons and the things I learned. But, surprisingly, finishing law school isn't turning out to be the glorious relief that every 2L waits for. All of a sudden it's hitting me that most of my friends from law school are leaving, and not in the moving-to-dallas-and-i'll-visit-often way. They're going away to semi-distant lands. Taking bar exams in other states, even. A number of my closest non-law school friends might be leaving as well. I love living in Austin, and being here is right for Matt and me, but it sucks when you have to make a new group of friends every four years or so as old friends leave town. For me it seems to be the girls that always leave. And don't get me wrong - I love my male friends, and I feel extremely blessed to have such wonderful people in my life. But who will I call when Nordstrom's has a shoe sale? Or when I hear a great name for my future hypothetical offspring?

I know that even if everyone who might possibly leave Austin in the next six months ends up leaving, there'll still be new friends to make. And there will be vacations to visit each other, and weekends trips, conferences, and all the other opportunities for spending time with the people I care about. But my friends are precious to me. I don't think there's anyone in the world who has girlfriends and wonderful as I do, and it hurts my heart to anticipate the void that will be in my life when this group of them moves away.

This week my two best friends from high school and I have been emailing each other on and off. One is already far away and the other is one who'll be moving elsewhere in Texas very soon. When we graduated from high school, I never had any doubt that the three of us would stay in touch. And I feel the same way about my other close girlfriends. We'll stay close, we'll laugh across phone lines, and relationships will evolve. But right now the idea of it just feels a little lonely. The past three years have been full of surprises, but the most wonderful surprise was the friends who've been there for me throughout law school.

Recently I saw a sappy chick-flick type of movie, the kind that I normally avoid, and I got another surprise when I started crying at the end. The movie is about sisters, and it very effectively used one of my favorite E.E. Cummings poems to expain the relationship between the sisters. And I thought of my friends, and how much I love them. I carry their hearts with me (I carry them in my heart.)

Open Letter to Various Celebrities

2007-01-30T22:42:00.000-08:00

To Whom it May Concern:

I hesitated about writing this post. You people already get enough attention, usually for stupid things like having fender benders or buying new breasts, and I don't like to contribute to that nonsensical and wasteful aspect of American culture. However, some of these things have to be said. I can't keep pretending. I cannot stay silent anymore, various celebrities! Here goes:

(1) To LeVar Burton: How is it that you aren't aging? Seriously, I saw an episode of Reading Rainbow a few weeks ago, and your skin is so smooth it looks like marble. Are you getting botox? Is it genetic? Or, is Matt right, and you've used your visor and the transporter to create an anti-aging device? What's the secret??

(2) To Dan Radcliffe: Dan . . . . dear, sweet Dan. You're adorable as Harry Potter, but . . . what is this? And this? And this? I get that you're in a play (a fairly well-known, but odd, play) and that you're trying to make Serious Actor career moves. I guess I respect that. But I have to say, I never thought I'd be afraid to look at a picture of you because I might end up seeing Harry's magic wand, if you know what I mean.

Thank you for your time,

R

Open Letter to Sorority Girls in Mittens

2006-12-19T06:16:00.000-08:00

To Whom it May Concern,

Good morning. Are we all having a good day? Good, because there's something we need to talk about. I realize we've discussed this before, but apparently I didn't do a very good job of getting my point across.

I saw you this morning on my way to a final. At first I thought there was only one of you, but then over and over again I saw tiny blondes wearing mittens or gloves. Sometimes you even travelled in packs, like some strange, colorful-pawed specie. I'm not dissing your mittens. They're very nice - J. Crew, I think? I would even wear them myself on the right day. But . . . let me be very clear about this . . . it isn't cold today. Not even a little. What is it outside, 70 degrees? Lowest, 65? Since when does this qualify as mitten weather??

I know that weather in Texas can be pretty confusing, can't it? One day it's freezing, the next day it's warm and sunny, the next day it's pouring rain. And I can see how one might expect the weather in December to be at least somewhat chilly. How is a girl to know right from wrong, up from down?

The answer, of course, is simple: WATCH THE WEATHER NEWS ON TV. LOOK IT UP ON YAHOO. What, is the electricity down at the phi kappa gamma slutta house, rendering you unable to figure out if you should go to your final in a bikini or a snowsuit? Do you suffer from a crippling fear of leaving the house without mascara, so that you are too scared to even stick your head outside to set the temperature? OR, perhaps you did one of these things, assessed the weather, put on a reasonable outfit, but then had to account for the bad case of "freezing extremititis" that's currently afflicting you and your co-greeks?

Truly, Sorority Girl in Mittens, I'm at a loss. I myself am in a long-sleeves shirt and jeans, and feel quit comfortable. I just can't handle seeing too many more of you. Even if all of you have some medical reason for this atrocity, there has to be a better way. There just has to be. Because right now, you look like asstards. And you're making me question my sanity.

Yours,

R

Time to play the Feud

2006-10-05T00:38:00.000-07:00

Incredible as it may seem, there is something dumber than going on the show Family Feud, and answering the question "Name a word that rhymes with 'coke'" with "float":

Going on Family Fued, letting your partner give that first stupid answer, and then, when it's your turn, answering with "moke."

Good gracious. I think this almost tops the episode where a woman answered the question "Name something you find in a birdcage" with "HAMSTER!!"

Glacier-esque

2006-10-03T11:06:00.000-07:00

Thank goodness I wore an almost-sweater, because it's about 50 degrees in the law school right now. My fingernails are turning blue. I think my teeth might even be chattering.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to go ice fishing.

Nerd Love

2006-09-05T14:29:00.000-07:00

R: And he had a son remember? Alex?
M: Oh, yeah . . . . the kid with the terrible make-up job who didn't even look right.
R: Maybe that was on purpose. Alex was only 3/4 Klingon because Worf's baby-momma was half human.
M: I can't believe you know that.
R: You know what's really weird though? Worf was on Deep Space Nine later, and I don't remember him having Alex with him or ever mentioning Alex. Maybe he went back to Earth to continue being raised by Worf's human parents.
M: Excuse me?
R: Worf was partially raised on Earth. There was this whole big thing where people thought his dad was a traitor and he was like, expelled from Klingon society or something. Why are you laughing?
M: You were just making fun of someone for knowing the name of the Klingon weapon and now you're telling me Worf's life history!
R: Shut up!
M: You're such a nerd.
R: It was important to the show! Worf was raised by humans and then after his woman got killed his human parents raised Alex for awhile!
M: You don't know what you're talking about.
R: Why are you debating me on this? You're just trying to make me mad! Alex was raised on Earth!
M: That's only so Worf wouldn't eat him.
R: Oh, so Klingons eat their childen now!?
M: . . . If they misbehave.

While searching for a spot

2006-08-06T10:23:00.000-07:00

Act One - 10:47 pm

R: Hey, do you see who that is?
M: Where?
R: Don't be obvious, but Jennifer Gale is sitting at the bus stop right outside my window.
M: Really?
R: Just look!
M: Oh yeah, that is her, isn't it?
R: Yep. Hey, take a right here and we'll check on Red River.

Act Two - 10:54 pm

R: Crap. Well, let's loop back around and grab that spot near 12th.
M: But then we'll have to drive past Jennifer Gale again.
R: And?
M: Don't you think she'll think it's weird if we keep driving past her?
R: Okay, we've lived in Austin waaaay too long if you're worried that Jennifer Gale might think we're weird just because we're driving past her in order to find parking. Seriously.
M: Touche.

FOUR DAYS PEOPLE

2006-07-23T22:23:00.000-07:00

After three years in the same apartment, Matt and I will be moving to a bigger place. On Friday. As in, five days from now. But we're moving Friday morning, so it's more like four days from now. Pardon me while I have a momentary spaz attack.

*Spazzes*

Thanks, I feel better. Actually, I'm much less freaked than I anticipated. Saturday we went to the new place to make sure everything was correct on our lease, and to view our apartment. At Matt & my current complex, one of my biggest complaints is that no one in the office staff ever seems to know what's going on. At this place, they not only had our paperwork ready and were super-helpful, they actually remembered who we were and had taken care of everything we'd asked them to. Just to serve as a reference point, last year we had to call our current apartment complex at least three times to remind them to draw up our lease renewal. And when we finally went to sign it, a bunch of stuff was wrong and they had to do it again.

After checking on a few things and talking to the assistant manager, she handed us a set of keys and told us to go check out our new place. The first thing we did - I'm not making this us - is check out the air conditioning. The main reason that we didn't consider getting a bigger unit in our current complex is because it has, to quote a City of Austin employee with the city's energy conservation project, "One of the worst, least efficient A/C infrastructures of any apartment complex in Austin." I kid you not. If I told you what our A/C bills were for our apartment, you would think I was joking. Last month our electric bill was sixty dollars higher than my brother's, and he lives in a 2-2. And in the really hot summer weeks, we really can't get our apartment cooler than 76 degrees until it gets dark. So suffice it to say, energy efficiency was a HUGE factor in our decision to move and I was worried that our new apartment would have the same problems.

We were in the new place for no more than 15 minutes and, in that time, the A/C cooled the whole apartment down from 82 degrees to 75 degrees. Matt practically had to stop me from kissing our updated, digital thermostat. The apartment also had new, energy-efficient windows, new carpet and paint, and new wood flooring in the kitchen and bathroom.

Do I sound a little excited? That's because I am. Our current place has been good to us, but it's time to move. Four days people. Four days.

The Happy Graduate

2006-06-29T22:59:00.000-07:00

In case some of you were not aware, Rafaan likes plaid shorts. A lot. Perhaps more than a man should like such a thing. We love you Rafaan - happy graduation!

And, no, the "old people" were not "using your party as an excuse to hang out." My brother, however, was using your party as an excuse to give you a pair of women's shorts. Even though he tried them on at the store, I'm begging you not to do the same thing. Unless you're willing to send us some pictures.

More from Rafaan's party.

Playoffs

2006-06-12T10:55:00.000-07:00

These days I've been thinking a lot about my good friend and former roommate Nas, and how, right as her beloved Mavs have made it ot the playoffs for the first time in history, she's in India for an internship. I guess that's what Tevo is for.

I've also been thinking about Shaquille O'neal and his foray into law enforcement. Apparently he's somehow found the time to participate in some actual cop-related work by assisting in the arrests of some child pornographers. Personally, if I was getting arrested for being a complete pervert, I would totally want the arresting officer to be Shaquille O'neal. Although it might be kind of terrifying since he's like nine feet tall.

Also, when the hell did he find the time to get trained to do this?? He travels all the time for basketball and events and stuff, and he and his teeny-tiny wife have like six young kids. I think he really must be a magic genie, like in that terrible movie . . . .

You know it's Friday when . . . .

2006-06-09T14:29:00.000-07:00

. . . you burst out laughing because one of the cases that came up in response to your search for a certain type of contractual provisions contains the following sentence:

"The magistrate further found that appellant negligently de-clawed appellee's kittens."

Confusing Use of Statistics

2006-05-19T00:38:00.000-07:00

Earlier this evening I was flipping channels and stopped at one of the local news stations. It was doing a story about the impact of the 150,000 Katrina evacuees who are still living in Houston. (For the purposes of the story, they were talking only about what falls within the Houston city limits, not the "greater Houston area".)

Here's what bothered me: the story mentioned that, in the past year, if you don't take into account Katrina evacuees, the crime rate in Houston "rose by 7%". However, if you do take into account Katrina evacuees, then "that number rises by 25%". I can't remember exactly how the woman worded everything, but she ended up doing so in a way that made it impossible to figure out what the hell she was saying. What number rose by 25%? The number or crimes? Because that's a lot of crime. But because of they way she structured her sentences, she was actually saying that 7% got 25% higher, which is an increase of less than 2%. That's not very much. And if she was actually saying that the non-evacuee crime hike is a 7% increase, and that the with-evacuee increase was higher, did the percentage increase by 25% (for a total increase of 32%) or to 25%???

Normally I would just mention the fact that this was the local Fox news affiliate, and bitch about Fox news. But I would acually like to know what the hell they were talking about. It only took about a second on the internet for me to confirm my suspicions: that the increase in crime rates are definately not less than 2%. One story from a Lafeyette news station's website even said that, since the hurricane and the evacuation, Katrina evacuees have been either the victims or the suspects in 20% of the murders that took place in Houston - more than double their percenatage of the population.

The amount of first-hand, accurate information that I know about Louisiana is negligible. I'm not even going to post what I think, except to say this: I think that, if anything, the post-Katrina events have made it a little more clear that extreme poverty and excessive wealth, and the huge gap in between, are huge problems in this country. Take from that what you will. It's too late at night/ early in the morning.

I blame you, Soroush

2006-05-12T00:29:00.000-07:00

Let me begin by saying the following: I never get hit on. And even before I was married and wore a wedding ring, I very rarely got hit on. I do, however, meet a lot of random people when I'm out studying. Most of them are nice, interesting people and we end up having conversations about things like law school or religion. They'll say things to me like "You remind me of my daughter" and "Excuse me, I know this sounds stupid, but what exactly is a tort?"

Unfortunately, this arrangement has been upset. A few weeks ago I visited my eye doctor, who also happens to be my friend Soroush. He is the BEST eye doctor ever. Being that he's a fantastic eye doctor, he recommended that I get a weak pair of reading glasses so that I wasn't putting so much strain on my eyes. Glasses are covered by my insurance, so while part of me thought "What a good suggestion, I certainly don't want to strain my eyes" another part of me thought "Ooh! Free accessories!" Feel free to make fun of me.

I went to place where Matt got his glasses and picked out a really cute pair of kind of smart-looking, but kind of trendy glasses. They arrived just as I started studying for finals, which was awesome because wearing them made me feel smart.

What I didn't know was that, apparently, glasses are code for "I'm a big hoe and you should try to hit on me even though I'm wearing a wedding ring." I am not exaggerating when I say that every single time I have been studying by myself since getting the glasses, I've gotten hit on. It's been so long since anyone has hit on me that I've completely forgotten the art of snappy comebacks. Truth be told, hitting on someone's who's married probably elevates you from deserving a snappy comeback to deserving a kick in the nuts. But that would be a tort.

And let me just remind all of the single men out there that weather-related comments are sucky, sucky pick-up lines. When I was single and a guy would approach me with something like "Wow, it's pretty humid today" I's have to bite my tongue to keep from sarcastically saying something like "My, aren't you creative! You must be an artist!" Let me also say that, even if you seem like a nice guy, jokingly saying "If you ever get divorced I'd love to take you out" is in Bad Form. Bad. Bad. Form.

It's been about a week of this nonsense and today, for the first time, I rediscovered my Withering Stare. Ah, if only you'd seen me back in undergrad! I could freeze a potential suitor from fifty yards away with nothing but a glance . . . those were the days.

As it states above, I blame Soroush for this. Damn him and his professional demeanor. And damn the stupid glasses for being so cute. I should have just bought the adorable Burberry boots. Men never notice shoes.

People have too much money

2006-05-07T23:58:00.000-07:00

I'm taking Artemis's advice and making more lists. It's very soothing, and it helps me forget that I have two exams left.

When my friend Hifa and I were teenagers, we got a kick out of the ugly clothes at Neiman Marcus. At the time I probably vowed never to shop there because of how ridiculous it was to spend $6,000 on a dress covered in sequined palm trees, but now that I'm older I have the wisdom not to throw the good fashion out with the bad. For the record: I am NOT advocating designer clothing prices. But I'm not denying that the constant rain has be seriously considering these. (Erin, say your worst. At least they aren't Uggs.)

Sometimes Hifa and I would split up in Neiman's and play a game called "who can find the ugliest item". We got kicked out when we started taking pictures.

In celebration of ugly fashions, I thought I's share some of the stupidest, ugliest, biggest wastes of money that I could find. If the hideousness makes you start to feel nauseous, just think abotu Hugh Laurie's face. You'll feel better.

Anyway, let the fashion-bashing commence:

1. A $6,000 cellphone. You think I'm kidding? Go ahead, click on the link. I dare you.
2. A $2,000 diamond encrusted Hello Kitty watch. I can't think of a single thing to say that would make this any more ridiculous.
3. A $6,000 sculpture OF BUDDHA. Are you KIDDING ME?
4. A $300 pair of men's pajamas. For the record, this item is suggested by the NM website as a "Gift for Him". I can't even imagine Matt's face if I gave him a $300 pair of pajamas. It wouldn't be a happy face.
5. This purse. If anyone clicks on this and thinks "awww, that's cute!" then I don't know if we can be friends anymore. This purse is U-G-L-Y. You couldn't pay me enough to carry it, let alone get me to pay $500 for it.

Let this be a lesson to the people of the world (well, those of them with too much money): just because something is expensive and trendy, that doesn't make it good. You may be able to buy a $900 pair of cufflinks, but you can't buy good taste.

5 Things . . .

2006-05-03T00:46:00.000-07:00

. . . that are more fun than studying for finals.

1. Watching a show about lions on PBS. Did you know that you can tell a lion's age by the color of his nose?
2. Making things with the Magic Bullet. You know, like delicious salsa, homemade guacamole, and ten-second nachos!
3. Watching clips from One Man Star Wars.
4. Putting decorative pink jewels all over Matt's phone while he's asleep.
5. Scuba-diving. I've never actually been scuba-diving, but I'm pretty sure it's better than studying for finals.

Learning and Sharing

2006-04-26T23:34:00.000-07:00

Do you know what I learned this month? That if someone begins a sentence with "I think I agree with Justice Thomas" I'll probably disagree with 99.99% of everything they will ever say. Especially if they go on to say that prosecuting wife-beaters could be bad, because it might cause women to let themselves be abused. I can't even find the strength in my four fingers (you know, they four that I type with) to go over what I thought when I heard someone say that out loud.

Here's another thing I learned: baseball sized hail will shatter a car windshield in about one minute. I learned this through someone else, but these are the kind of lessons that you don't forget. Oh, and a tornado won't hesitate to steal your porch chairs right from your patio and desposit them who-knows-where. That one I can personally attest to.

I've also learned a lot about the ethical issues in collaborative family law. What? Oh . . . you don't give a rat's ass? Nobody wants to hear about law school? Thank goodness I have Neville. He likes conversation and doesn't mind if I complain about law school. Although he never has very good advice, since all of our talks go something like this:

Me: I still have eight more pages to write! I'll never get this finished!
Neville: Meeeeeooooow.
Me: Is it possible to fail out of law school?
Neville: *blinks*
Me: I need a cookie.

Okay, so maybe that conversation was a bit of a lie. Neville only knows 2 words: "mao" and "yao". He's very into Chinese history and culture. Sometimes we ask him "Neville, who's your favorite player on the Rockets?" and he'll say, "Yaaooo." Othertimes he gets confused and answers "Maaaoooo" but we quickly correct him and explain that he's thinking of the deceased leader of the Communist Party of China.

And although it's not yet Friday, I had to share the following Chuck Norris fact, because I thought it was fantastic (it's way better if you read it out loud):

"Dinosaurs went extinct because of the Chuck Norrisaurus"

Guilds Kick Ass

2006-04-19T00:30:00.000-07:00

In the past week, Matt has:
1. killed a wild boar with his fists,
2. gotten sucked into a painting,
3. been bitten by a vampire,
4. been struck by lightning,
AND
5. chased down a dinosaur.

Did I mention this all took place in Oblivion? And by "Oblivion" I mean "the reason that I'm going to fail out of law school". Seriously, I think the most accurate comment I've read about this game so far is that it lacks one thing: an attachment that links directly to your brain so that you can keep playing while showering and sleeping. I call Matt at work to say things like "Have we looked for Nirnroot in Bravil?" and "How do you feel about goblin-made armor?" We're totally obsessed.

Let me tell an anecdote to illustrate the level of obsession that we're talking about here. I was running errands today and was sitting at a stoplight in a really pretty area of Austin that's all hilly and green. I looked out of my car window and noticed that the grass was full of wildflowers, some weird weeds, and a bunch of small shrubs. And do you know what I thought? I thought "I wonder what magical properties those plants have."

A Sordid Tale

2006-04-10T15:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life has a strange serendipity; unlikely choices and the tides of fate collide, with extraordinary and wonderful results. On the other hand, sometimes life gives you the opposite of that, and what should have been nothing turns into something awful. One particular example of the latter phenomenon occured on the eve of my friend Dean's wedding. As the title of this post notes, it's a sordid tale indeed - in fact, the story I'm about to recount is so scandalous that it's ruined any hopes my best friend Mahan had of venturing into politics.

Okay, so maybe she never had any intentions of going into politics. But if she had, they would now be dashed.

A few days before Dean & Crystal's wedding, which would take place in Dallas, Mahan drove up to Austin from Houston so that she, Matt and I could take one car to Dallas for the wedding. At some point we stopped at Erin's - I think because she was cat-sitting Neville - but maybe we were just hanging out. Mahan and I couldn't help but notice that Erin had a Playboy on her coffee table. (See? I told you this was a sordid tale.) Erin, who at the time was working at Starbuck's, explained that she and a friend had bought Playboy because the theme of the issue was "the Girls of Starbuck's" and supposedly featured real Starbuck's employees, and they wanted to see whether the pictures were actually Starbuck's employees. Erin then told us that the girls didn't look like baristas at all. Here's where the bad choices begin: somehow it was decided that Mahan and I should take the Playboy with us so that we could look at the pictures.

Mahan was the driver on the trip to Dallas, and Matt spent most of the trip sleeping. Have I mentioned that the drive to Dallas is the Worst Drive Ever? Well, it is. Other than the possibility of picking up a Dr.Pepper made with real sugar, the trip has almost no redeeming qualities. About halfway through the trip Mahan and I started to get bored. We started daring each other to do things, which was boring until we remembered the Playboy. Then we spent about half an hour playing a game where Mahan would match the speed of an unsuspecting car next to us, and I would hold up a picture of a naked lady to the passengers in that car.

(I wanted to point out that this happened BEFORE I started law school, because if someone suggested this now, I would promptly explain about negligence law and how creating a distraction on the road is a bad idea. But back when this story took place I was young, innocent, and ignorant about tort law.)

When we got tired of holding up dirty pictures for other cars and trying to shock them, we came up with a better plan - let's take crazy pictures!! In yet another twist of fate, neither Mahan nor the Giani-Sherrill's had brought along a digital camera, but for some reason we had a disposable camera. (I really have no idea why.) We had to stop for gas anyway, and while Matt went inside to get snacks I took some Very Interesting pictures of Mahan, some of which involved the Playboy. Then we decided to stop wasting film, and the rest of the car trip proceeded normally.

Dean & Crystal's wedding was wonderful, and, since we'd left plenty of film on the disposable camera, Matt took a lot of wedding-related shots. After we'd all seen Dean and Crystal off with the ceremonial flinging of rose petals, a group of people decided to go the Cheesecake Factory. Matt had more items than usual so I checked to make sure he had everything. Keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Rachel's lip gloss? Check. Then I asked about the camera. Matt got a little flustered, and then realized he'd left it in the room where the wedding took place.

This might not have been a huge problem, were it not for the fact that each table at the wedding had a disposable camera on it. You know, the kind that you put on the table so that guests can take pictures of each other? Mahan and I ran back into the main room when we realized Matt had forgotten the camera, and were horrified to see that ALL of the disposable cameras- including, presumably, the Camera in Question (CiQ) - were grouped together in the corner while the roomed was cleaned up. And they were all the same brand. And the same color.

Okay, so maybe I was a little entertained, in addition to being horrified. But Mahan was seriously horrified.

We pored over the cameras until we noticed a slight difference in the packaging of just one camera, as if it had been purchased at a different time. We snatched it up, praying that it was the CiQ.

I got the pictures back about a week after the wedding, and called Mahan to let her know that everything was in the clear and we had the CiQ. I thought that was the end up the issue until a few months later, when some North Austin locations of a certain drugstore chain got in trouble with the law because their teenage employees were making personal copies for themselves when customers brought in photos. The reports implied that these were male employees copying dirty an semi-dirty pics. Guess where I'd had the film from the CiQ developed . . .

On another side note, who takes serious dirty pictures and then has them developed at a store? Get a digital camera, or take Polaroids or something. Invest in a color printer like a normal person.

I never heard what happened with the litigation about the photos and the news sort of stopped caring, but I'm fully convinced that in some evidence file in the Travis County DA's office, there's a picture of Mahan pretending to lick a picture of a humungous boob. That should be the moral of this story: if you pretend to lick a picture of a humungous boob, don't allow the incident to be documented.

Happy Friday!

2006-04-07T01:03:00.000-07:00

A Chuck Norris fact to start your weekend:

They were going to release a Chuck Norris edition of Clue, but the answer always turns out to be "Chuck Norris. In The Library. With a Roundhouse Kick."

the Post you knew was coming

2006-04-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

Saturday night as we finally got into bed Matt asked me if I would set my alarm. Sure, I responded, how abotu for 10:30? I figured that would give him plenty of time. "Um, could you set it for a little earlier", he asked, "like, maybe 9:15?" I groaned, but complied. It was 3:30 in the morning - actually, it was 4:30 because of the time change - and I was going to have to get up in four hours in order to go stand in line outside Best Buy.

Are you beginning to suspect what this is about?

This past Friday evening, Matt had made his usual round of calls to Best Buy, Circuit City and the like, asking if they had any Xbox 360's. And Best Buy had informed him that they would be getting a shipment of a least 30 units in on Sunday morning and that it would be advertised in the Sunday morning paper. So you can understand the glee Matt felt as we went to bed Saturday night. If you can't, pretend you're about to get that fabulous dress/pair of concert tickets you've been jonesing for.

My alarm went off at 9:15 and I hit snooze, thinking that I had a few minutes. Did I mention that Best Buy opens at 11am? Anyway, in the fifteen minutes between snoozes Matt got completely dressed, so that when my alarm went off again at 9:30 he decided to go without me. He called a few minutes later.

"Hey!"

"Hey hon. Are you there? What's going on?"

"Well, there's no line yet. There are about four people waiting in their cars, but no one's in line. Do you want me to come pick you up? Are you ready?"

"Will you buy me a smoothie?"

"Suuure."

"Okay, you can come pick me up."

So I threw on some clothes and waited for Matt to come pick me up. Then we got a smoothie, and then we returned to Best Buy. By then it was probably 10:20, and the nerds of the world had indeed started lining up outside the still-closed store. Some Best Buy employees started going down the line and asking, "You here for the 360?" and then noting whether the person wanted the core system or the platinum system with a harddrive. Each person was given a voucher as the employees moved down the line.

"What are you here for?", they had gotten to the dude in front of us, who wanted a platinum system. Then it was our turn, and Matt explained what he wanted and gleefully accepted his voucher. The employees moved to the guy behind us in line, and had the following conversation:

"Sir, what are you here for?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you waiting in line for?"

"Oh - Turbotax!"

" . . . .Turbotax?"

"Well, yes. Do you not have Turbotax??"

*Trying not to laugh* "No, no , we do, it's just - this line is for people waiting for an Xbox 360. You don't have to wait in line for Turbotax. You can go ahead inside."

Seriously, I know that getting your taxes done on time is important, but who gets to Best Buy a half hour before it opens on a Sunday and thinks they need to wait in line? Who thinks that lining up outside Best Buy is normal?

Promptly at 11am they let the line inside and Matt finally obtained the object of his affection. So far he's been playing it fairly cool, except that every now and then he shouts out something like "I can watch a slideshow of all our pictures!!" or "I can play any music on the computer while playing video games!" He also gets really excited when Alan sends us messages.

Reflections at Five AM/ Unadulterated Nonsence

2006-03-22T02:56:00.000-08:00

Since when did law school classes start having midterms? This is really interfering with my "do nothing for the latter half of March" strategy.

What's with guys who flat-iron their hair? Seriously, I think it's kind of lame when I flat-iron my hair, and I'm a chick. Let your hair be free, Joe Perry of Aerosmith!

The weirdest thing I've ever heard is about a guy whose favorite band was Rush. I think I heard that from Erin. I can only listen to the lead singer of Rush for, like, three seconds without feeling an overwhelming desire for throat lozenges.

Tonight I was studying at a coffeeshop and, as a couple was leaving, I realized that the girl was someone I'd been friends with from high school. Before I noticed her face I had thought she was a soccer mom. And for the first time in my entire life I thought "Wow, looking younger is better than looking older". I know that sounds bitchy, but I don't mean it to be. This girl didn't look bad, just put together in a way that made her seem much older than she really is.

Did you know that my cat snores? Yep, he does. Tiny, barely audible little kitty snores. It's pretty freaking adorable.

Nothing makes you feel more Southern than baking a green bean casserole.

You know that deer-like animal that lives in Africa, that has the black stripe on its body? Well, as it turns out, that animal is a gazelle - not a gisele. A gisele is a brazilian supermodel. Also, if you make this mistake, your husband will laugh at you. Then you will convince him that you should split an apple strudel even though you know you'll be eating 85% of it, so it sort of evens out.

How does Prince decide on his facial hair? Does he have a facial hair stylist? And does he shave those weird patterns himself? If so, does he have some sort of guide that he uses to get the design so even?

Food, Glorious Food

2006-03-17T00:11:00.000-08:00

Right now Baha'i's are in the middle of the annual Baha'i Fast, so I thought I would write a post about my favorite foods. (I know, it's sort of evil. I guess those of you who are fasting should wait to read this until after sunset.) Oh, and fair warning: the listed items are probably all going to be unhealthy and horrible for you in all sorts of ways. That's what makes them good . . . .

1. Dr. Pepper. I pretty much had to list this, right? Everyone is allowed a vice, and this is mine. I've heard all of the info about the evils of caffeine and carbonated drinks, but somehow I haven't managed to give up Dr. Pepper and those shiny red cans. Oooh, or the glass bottles with Dr. Pepper made from pure can sugar. Yum. I guess it's a Southern thing.

2. Plain Cheesecake from the Upper Crust Bakery. I swear to you, this heavenly concoction is worth every pair of pants that you can't fit into, every pound of fat that makes its home on your thighs. The cake itself is perfectly smooth and wonderful with just the slightest tastes of lemon and vanilla, and the crust is thick and crumbly and wonderful. Now that I'm writing about this, I think I might have to go buy one tomorrow.

3. HEB's juices. If you're a fan of real juice - as in, juice that's made from nothing more than fruit, water and sugar - then you'll love HEB's juices. I love the limeade, although it's pretty tangy and nto for the faint of heart. I'm also very fond of the tangerine juice, because it's all the deliciousness of clementines without the work of peeling. The only downside is that, obviously, you can't buy this at other grocery chains.

4. Fruit. I love it. I could eat fruit all day. Especially pineapple . . . .Mmmmm . . . . . Pineapple . . . .*Drools like Homer Simpson.

5. Barbeque chicken pizza. From pretty much anywhere.

6. Salad, drenched in some sort of delicious italian or vinagrette type dressing.

7. OMG SUSHI. The food of champions. Or maybe just of people who love seafood. Each piece of sushi is like a perfect, miniature meal where all the flavors mix in your mouth. It's probably the worst type of food you could ever eat on a blind date, since enjoying sushi involves shoving huge chunks of food into your mouth and (if you're me) spilling soy sauce all over. Seriously, there's not polite, demure way to eat sushi, which makes me love it even more.

8. The Dip. The Matts know what I'm referring to: some friend of my Mom's once made this dip (as in, like, chips and dip) that was absolutely delicious and subsequently gave my Mom the recipe who then passed the recipe on to me. I won't tell you what's in it because it sounds weird, but anyone who's actually tried it can attest to the fact that it's like crack. It's best with Wavy Lays. It's also especially good as a late night snack while playing video games.

9. The Mango-a-go-g0 smoothie from Jamba Juice.

10. Indian food. Especially Butter chicken.

11. And Finally . . . . The Cinnamocha from 360 Primo, my favorite coffeeshop, where I have spent countless hours wanting to beat myself to death with various legal textbooks.

So if you make it through the next few days, go out and reward yourself with one of these yummies. And if you decide on the Cinnamocha from 360 Primo then I'll probably see you there. I'll be the one with the huge book who looks like she's about to lose her mind.

Is it just me, or are people getting dumber?

2006-03-09T10:47:00.000-08:00

The news really outdid itself this week. First, Yanni is arrested for domestic abuse. Now, David Hasselhoff's wife is claiming he beats her. Is this some new trend? If you want to be a really lame musician you have to beat your wife? Should we send someone to monitor John Tesh?

And then there are the three dumbest people in Alabama, the half-wit firestarters. This one really baffles me. You think that it's reached the pinnacle of idiocy when you learn that these fucktards set FIVE churches on fire as some sort of prank. But then you get to the part where they set the other four in the next few weeks TO THROW POLICE OFF THEIR TRACKS. Has none of them ever seen an episode of CSI? More evidence = high likelihood of catching losers. Oh, and maybe they should have realized that IF THE POLICE AREN'T LOOKING FOR THEM BECAUSE THEY HAVE NO LEADS THEN STARTING MORE FIRES IS TRULY THE STUPIDEST PLAN EVER. EVER.

Obviously, I'm glad these assmonkeys have finally been caught. I'm just flabberghasted at the level of stupidity. And did I mention that Anna Nicole Smith just appeared before the United States Supreme Court (as a spectator, but still)? Oh yes, she did. Our Vickie Lynn is really coming up in the world (puns, many of them, intended).

And, of course, there's a lot of legitimate news going on, but a lot of it is dumb too. I'm too lazy to find this story again, but some sort of fatherhood group is trying to say that fathers shouldn't have to pay child support or something. I heard one of the guys talking on the news and he explained that this didn't hurt society at all because, if a woman got pregnant by someone who didn't want to pay anything, she could just put the kid up for adoption. OK, let me think this through . . . . you're against birth control . . . . you're against abortion . . . . you're against paying for children . . . . . and you want to put all of those kids up for adoption. Well, what a FANTASTIC solution!! I mean, since there are simply millions of people waiting to adopt children, that plan will work GREAT! And let's make sure to cut sex education out of schools and take away those evil condoms so that fourteen year olds are sinning as minimally as possible when they have sex, and then when they get pregnant they'll keep the babies, and their forty-year old uncles who actually fathered the babies when then sexually assaulted the girls won't want to pay, so we'll just put the inbred little bastards up for ADOPTION!! MY GOODNESS, THIS IS THE MOST WELL THOUGHT OUT PLAN EVER!! Oh, wait a second - NO IT'S NOT.

SOUTH DAKOTA, I AM TALKING TO YOU. I hope that the 44% of rape victims who are UNDER 18 find a way to kick your ass.

I think adoption is wonderful, but I have a problem with not providing any means at all for people - especially dumb teenagers - to avoid unplanned pregnancy (i.e. not educating them, refusing to give them condoms, etc) and then acting like adoption is some sort of magical catch-all that saves the rest of society's problems. The education thing especially bothers me. I've been amazed in my adult life to hear some of the things people think (examples: if you have sex while you're on your period it's impossible to get pregnant, the pill protects against STD's) about sexual health. But the majority of young people in America are never taught anything about the subject. I don't get the theory that education is dangerous. I mean, right now we're doing a crapass job by NOT teaching kids about sex and that doesn't seem to be working. Hey, maybe we should try educating them about the subject, and seeing if that helps them make informed decisions! Imagine.

We need to stop thinking of everything as sinful and evil. Maybe we should let God worry about judging other people and start actually trying to come up with solutions to our problems.

Too bad everyone is busy making elevator music and beating their spouses.

She's ba-ack . . . . sort of

2006-03-06T12:23:00.000-08:00

I went to bed last night with high expectations. Assault and Flattery had just wrapped and, sad though it was, I was looking forward to normalcy. I planned to wake up early for the Fast, fnish reading for class, go to class, maybe sit at a coffeeshop afterward studying.

Instead, I woke up sick.

I hate being sick and I'm losing my mind out of boredom. Despite how crappy I felt this morning, I honestly might have gotten up anyway if Matt hadn't taken my temperature to prove to me that I needed to rest. Did you know that there is absolutely nothing on television in the middle of the day?

Seriously, the Tony Danza show? Even I have standards.

Next time will be about Sony, I promise

2006-02-16T01:48:00.000-08:00

I know you've all been drooling in anticipation to hear me bitch about Sony, and I promise that post will materialize. But right now I need to talk about something else:

Race.

Intellectually, we all know that race is just a construct, but that doesn't make it any less of a bitch, does it? Right now I'm in this Constitutional Law class on race and gender discrimination (althought "in" is sort of a stretch, since I have trouble not skipping it). It's a fantastic class and I love my professor, but every time I go I end up wanting to kick someone. I was talking to Erin earlier this week about how this class is really demonstrating that there are people - lots of people - who've never really had a close friend that's different from them. There are all these people walking around who've never really tried to get out of their comfort zones, to experience hardship, or to try and understand other people. And if I'm saying this then you know it must be bad, because we all know that I'm extremely lazy and that my idea of going out of my comfort zone is studying in a new coffeeshop.

I was lucky because I was raised in a very diverse relgious community, made up of people from vere different racial, social and economic backgrounds. But what do you do if you aren't in that situation? What do you do if you live in a suburb that was originally developed to accommodate white-flight?

Part of the reason this class is so troubling is because, legally, it's hard to find good answers. For starters, it's hard to walk the line between letting courts have total control in one area without opening the door for some potentially crazy court to have control in another area.

Beyond that, how much can we (legally) take away choice? If young couples want to live in the suburbs for completely race-neutral reasons, like good school systems, how to do you justify forcing them to do something different without possibly creating racial animosity that wasn't there before?

And, most troubling, how the heck do you get anybody to care about this when most people think that everything is great?

Earlier today I saw an episode of Malcolm and the Middle that got me thinking about all of this again. In the episode, Lois (the mom) has finally been hired back at the grocery store where she worked, and Malcolm has gotten a job there too. Lois is on probation and she can't get fired because the family needs the money. The store sets up a new display for some brand of malt liquor, and the display is a cardboard cutout of an African-American guy in what looks like a janitor's outfit, holding a mop in one hand and a case of malt liquor in the other. The cutout is smiling and his nametag says "Slappy".

Lois freaks out as soon as it goes up because of how offensive and racist it is. So she steals it. But the store gets another cut-out and asks Malcolm to set it up, which he does just to piss off his mom. After the conflict between the two of them goes on for a little while, Lois decides that she has to do what's right. She grabs the cutout and starts to march out of the store.

As Lois is leaving, the sweet and soft-spoken lady who works in the checkout line next to her says "Oh, thank goodness you're getting rid of that thing!". "Yes", Lois replies, "I just couldn't take it anymore." "I know!", said the lady, "Ever since that thing went up, there have been so many black people coming to the store." Lois sort of stares at her with this shocked look on her face, and then the lady continues with something like, "We just aren't that kind of store, and I'm so glad that thing is leaving so that they stop coming around here."

Of course, after that, Lois then decides to leave the cutout. But I thought the storylinne was interesting. And telling: it seems like there aren't a lot of good options when it comes to current state of race relations in America. Whether you take or leave the cutout, it's still racist. There's no way to fix the problem without changing people's minds, and forcing people to act is almost impossible.

*Sigh. I didn't mean for this to be depressing. I guess I'm just a little frustrated. I should've just ranted about Sony.

I got your Final Fantasy right here

2006-02-05T21:35:00.000-08:00

For the past six months I've been biting my tongue so that I don't write a long, rambly post about how much Matt & I hate Sony. I could go through and name all of the reasons that we feel this way but I'm sure you have better things to do. However, just now I was watching a program on PBS about video games, and this Smarmy Bastard Sony game developer was all "Sony is such a great company and here we all love video games and it isn't about the money like it is at Microsoft." Oh, really? Is that why you just hired a new CFO to reorganize the company? Because you love games so much? Silly me, I thought it was because Sony was a huge, sprawling corporation run by a bunch of rich people who want to make a lot of money.

Then Smarmy Bastard #2 was all "People love Sony, but everybody hates Microsoft. Sony is a great company to work for." Guess what asshat: LOTS of people don't like Sony. You know, like the people who got viruses bc your CD's were putting spyware on their computers. Or the people who refuse to buy Sony TV's since they're only compatible with other Sony products. Sure, lots of people hate Microsoft. But just as many people hate Sony. You are BOTH huge, sprawling corporations whose job is to make money. At least Microsoft is honest about. You should stop kidding yourself.

I hope that Bill Gates DOES have Halo 3 ready so that he can release it the same day that you start selling the PS3.

This should be called "Erin nails claw on the rocky beach" but no one would get it

2006-02-02T23:18:00.000-08:00

I'm very lucky in that my two best friends from high school, Erin & Krissa, are both still in my life. The three of us have always been very different. Very Different. I think that makes for a great friendship. We were, however, united in out totally inappopriate love of a beautiful man named Gordon Sumner, who is more commonly known as Sting.

One time we were driving somewhere (probably to Cafe Artiste) when Fields of Gold came on the radio. We were singing along when someone asked what Sting says at the end of the line "We walked in fields of ---". Amazingly, none of us knew. We listed harder the next time Sting sang that line and still couldn't tell, so Krissa whipped out her Sting CD. (Okay, it might have been Erin. I don't remember who was driving, but we made Krissa drive a lot, so let's just say we were in her car.)

We put the song on repeat. "It sounds like whatever they walked in begins with the letter 'b' or the letter 'h'". I was given the task of leaning my ear to the speaker while we played it again, and I confirmed that the mystery word did indeed begin with one of those two letters. So we all started coming up with suggestions.

"Maybe it's 'we walked in field of holly'?" But that suggestion was quickly rejected when someone (probably Erin) logically pointed out that holly is very sharp and pokey and it would NOT be pleasant to frolic/get it on in a field of holly. It had to be some sort of plant, we thought, but city girls don't know much about plants.

Then someone - and I will keep this part anonymous to protect the guilty party - suggested that perhaps Sting was walking in fields of Bali. You know, like that country that exports all the gold. It sounded more reasonable than anything else.

Later I mentioned this puzzle and the amswer we'd come up with to my Mom, who doesn't even like Sting very much, and it was probably only about five seconds before she said, "Um, isn't he saying 'we walked in fields of BARLEY'?" Ohhhh. Like the wheat.

(I just googled "Bali" and learned that their primary export is textiles. Save that information for Jeopardy)

Another example . . . .

2006-01-24T10:15:00.000-08:00

. . . of how law school is a bizarre and surreal experience:

You can actually, with your own ears, hear someone begin a sentence with "From what I have read about the African-Americans . . ."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

They ALL need to go on Dr. Phil

2006-01-14T23:04:00.000-08:00

So I love Lord of the Rings (LotR), both the books and the movies. But as I'm watching Return of the King for the eight millionth time, I'm realizing how much simpler some parts would have been if the characters were a little better at communicating. Somehow responding to an idea with nothing but a dramatic look doesn't really convey much information. Let me give you an example of a conversation that could have made certain episodes a lot easier:

Frodo: So, yeah, that's pretty much the deal. This ring is making me so crazy that all I can do at crucial moments is fall down, my overly affectionate gardener is pretty much keeping the shit together, and this creepy guy is our guide.
Faramir: Duuuude, that's crazy! I mean, seriously! You guys are actually going to Mordor?
Frodo: Well, we've already come all this way, so, you know . . . why not?
Faramir: How the hell are you guys getting there?
Frodo: I'm not sure on the details, but the creepy dude knows this way to get in. It's like, through the mountains up these stairs and shit.
Faramir: *Dramatic Look*
Frodo: What? What?
Faramir: I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do, but I think I should warn you that there is a huge fucking spider that lives up there and you need to stay the heck out of the caves.

See how that went? See how much easier the whole thing could have been if Frodo had known not to go in the caves? He would have realized that Gollum was screwing him over before the whole giant spider incident. Here's another time that a little give and take could have helped everybody out:

Aragorn: I'm gonna go wander around this weird rock formation and look for some hair gel. Are you guys okay here?
Hobbits: Sure!
Aragorn: Okay, I trust you, but you really need to be careful. *Dramatic Look*
Hobbits: We will be!
Aragorn: I know you guys think that I'm just trying to scare you, but I'm serious. Those freaky hooded guys are really fast and if you do anything that could attract attention then will totally show up and wail on your asses.

Was that so hard?? Is it that difficult to give people proper warning? I think the problem is that all the characters are men. (I'm sort of kidding) But that might not be a bad thing - imagine if Aragorn was a girl:

Aragornia: I'm going to go wander around this rock formation and look for some hair gel. Are you guys okay here?
Hobbits: Sure! Can we see you naked?
Aragornia: In your dreams. Anyway, you guys really need to be careful. *Dramatic Look*
Hobbits: We will be! Can we see you naked??
Aragornia: I know you guys think that I'm just trying to scare you, but I'm serious. Those freaky hooded guys are really fast and if you do anything that could attract attention then will totally show up and wail on your asses. Are you guys even listening? You never listen to me. I saved your sorry butts in the forest and I brought you all the way here, I had to listen to your whining for days, and you can't even lift your pinkie finger to try and make things a little easier for me. I mean, did you even take out the trash? It's just never enough for you guys, is it . . . *Rant continues*

And, Nikki, what do you think of the name "Aragornia"? Shall I suggest it to Jub & Brian?

It was from a "Svetlana Munsh"

2006-01-09T22:21:00.000-08:00

In other news, I just got the best spam/virus email ever at my hotmail address. Most of them have address lines that talk about coupons or penile enlargements, but this one had an address line that just said "I want Canada Man".

Tis' the Season

2006-01-09T19:53:00.000-08:00

The post-holiday season is a great time to shop because of all the sales. And these past few weeks have been particularly great for me to shop because I'm on winter break. Therefore, I thought I'd post about my current product obsessions, sort of Oprah-style. Yes, it's vapid, but I really need to give my brain a rest.

Current Obsessions:

1. My new Dove Fresh Original Solid deoderant. I've been on a deoderant quest for the past few years, ever since I realized that Old Spice makes a man's deoderant that's perfect because it's both clear and in stick form, versus that normal clear goo that you ooze out in clicks. This means you get the invisiility of a gel without having to let the deoderant dry on your underarms dry for like two hours (any girl who's used gel deoderant knows what I'm talking about). I did find a girl's deoderant that's clear and in stick form, but it sucked. It did nothing form me and by the end of a hot day I would stink. I gave up on the clear gelstick and, last time I was at the store, decided to just grab something. The Dove that I bought on a whim isn't clear, but it is the softest, best-smelling deoderant ever; it smells like clean clothes and jasmine. I even wore it without any perfume one day and more than once I was complimented and told that I smelled really nice.

2. Amazing Grace products. This is an old obsession. I usually wear this fragrance in the summer bc it's really light, but the eighty degree weather prompted me to bring it back. I love all of the products - the perfume, the body wash, the lotion.

3. Epicurious.com. This isn't really a product but it's awesome. They have tons of recipes and one of the best websites I've ever used in terms of the way they have their searches and stuff set up. My only complaint is that the collection of Indian recipes is small and repetitive.

4. The Chi hair-straightening iron. Ever since Erin - whose opinion I take as gold - told me about how the Chi changed her life, I've been coveting it. And now I can say without any hesitation that it is worth every penny. It literally cuts the time it takes to straighten your hair in half, and afterwards your hair is all soft and smooth. Seriously, so far worth every penny. And FYI, they just started selling it at Bed Bath & Beyond, so you can use those 20% coupons they're always mailing out to save a bunch of money on it.

5. Scarves. Tons of 'em. The warms ones are on hold since, you know, it's eighty degrees out, but I'm confident that we'll soon make it down to a brisk 65 degrees and I can break them out again. And they're all on sale for like $5.

6. Fable: the Lost Chapters. Omg I can't get enough of this game. "Look, it's the chicken chaser!". This new version has all sorts of added content, some of which is hysterical (read: sex with an old prostitute) but most of which are expansions on the overall storyline. This is probably my favorite game for the Xbox so far (please don't kill me Bungie) so I did a little dance when the expanded version came out.

7. Francesca's. I'm always telling people about this store because I can't get enough of it. It's the best place I've found to get fun, interesting, boutique-style clothes without giving up the financial equivalent of your firstborn child. They always have great, unique clothes and good sales where stuff goes 50% off. Last week I got this awesome blue flowy skirt on sale for $12, and a geisha-sytle dress (similar to one I saw at Banana Republic for like $80) for only $22. Both items were on sale but I still think that's pretty good. They also have TONS of jewellry in all styles and lotsof random fun stuff like purses, photo albums, lip gloss, etc. Their website is new and has almost no stuff on it, but I think it does list their locations.

8. LipFusion. I have no idea if this product really works, but my mind thinks it does. I get all happy everytime I put it on, which is totally lame because probably it doesn't make any difference.

9. White Barn Candle Co.'s Spiced Cider Candles. Someone gave this to us as a gift and I burn it every night. I realized that it smells just like my mother-in-law's kitchen so it also makes me feel all nice and home-y.

10. White Barn's filled candles in Fresh Baked Cookie Scent. This needs no description. It's exactlt what you imagine, but even more wonderful. This line from White Barn has a bunch of yummy food-scents like Marble Cake, Fresh Apple Pie, and Hot Mocha. All of the White Barn products are available at Bath & Body Works.

11. Last but not least, Madonna's Latest. I don't usually like dance music because it's repetitive and pointless, full of obnoxious sound effects and girls with baby-voices. Dance music by Madonna, however, is different. I love love love this album.

Confessions, but not on a dance floor

2005-12-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: this post is about religion. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I've always been very hesitant when telling people that I don't drink alcohol because I'm a Baha'i. I guess that might surprise some people, because I've never really felt pressure to act differently and it doesn't bother me what anyone else - whether they are Baha'i or not - does with regard to the issue (barring situations of substance abuse). Even more important than any Baha'i belief about alcohol or drugs is the bedrock principle that no individual has any right to pass judgment on others. What other people are doing or not doing is totally irrelevant to your own spiritual development so just leave it alone:

"O Son of Being! How couldst thou forget thin own faults and busy thyself with the faults of others?" - Baha'i Writings.

Furthermore, life is all about perspective, and I think it's pretty presumptuous to even look at what someone else is doing as a "fault". The right attitude isn't "Mr.Q is doing X, which is a fault, but I won't worry about it bc it's not my place." Of course, this is very general and is based on my personal interpretation of the Baha'i writings.

Anyway, I've digressed. I'm often hesitant - when meeting someone new - to tell them that I don't drink bc I'm a Baha'i. And the reason is bc, when I do, I can often see the doors being slammed in my face. People have soooo many assumptions about people who don't drink. It's kind of an ironic situation: people assume that non-drinkers are judgmental assholes, so when they hear that I don't drink they pass judgment on me and shut me out. I don't have a problem with someone who disagrees with what I believe or with the way I live my life; I have a problem with people use one little thing as justification for refusing to get to know other people. Again, I'm totally generalizing here.

This has always sort of bothered me, because I hope that I'm not a judgmental asshole and that when a person gets to know me it wouldn't weird them out that I don't drink. A few days ago I was reading the transcript of a talk by a Baha'i scholar and he said something that caught my attention. He said that people who might not otherwise have a problem with the Baha'i Faith get very turned off by some of the Baha'i laws - for example, the not-drinking thing. He said that this was understandable, bc so many people who do follow religious laws act in a certain judgmental way, and when someone who's never met a Baha'i hears that we aren't supposed to drink he or she might think "well, this isn't any different. This religion is just like all the others." The point he made was what caught my eye: that the Baha'i laws are not like "all the others". Most religions have laws based on concepts like original sin, or sinfulness - we don't have this concept in the Baha'i Faith as a basic for our laws. The laws don't stem from some black and white notion of right or wrong, they're a guidebook on the way to live the most spiritually healthy life. Drinking is a good example: the reason we're not supposed to drink isn't because it invites satan into our hearts and is wicked and evil. It's bc we believe that human beings are unique in having higher rational and spiritual faculties, and that it's not healthy to engage in behavior that restricts your ability to utilize those faculties.

I'm very frustrated by people who make assumptions about me. But it's also weird to feel like you are biting your tongue to keep from speaking your truth bc you don't want to be judged. A few months ago I was speaking with a friend and had an interesting experience, which I will edit for clarity and anonymity. My friend, Ninja, said "I can't hang out with them bc they're so religious." I responded that I was religious and that didn't prevent us from being friends, and Ninja said, "Yeah, but they're like judgmental and born-again. Q even believes in praying every single day."

I don't remember what I said but it definitely wasn't "I believe in praying every single day." I felt so torn: I didn't want to make Ninja feel bad and I certainly didn't want Ninja's opinion of the Baha'i Faith to change, but at the same time, I very strongly believe in praying every day. And I think the only reason Ninja said that is bc in Ninja's mind, daily prayer was a proxy for a lot of other - more negative - religious practices.

I guess the test is to strike a balance between being obnoxious ("I'd like a soda because I don't every drink alcohol bc if my religion!!") and between being too hesitant. For me that's definitely a work in progress.

Ok, how about this?

2005-12-21T18:23:00.000-08:00

Does this meet everyone's liking? How about the large print? Do we like it?

Stuart, you are right . . .

2005-12-20T11:46:00.000-08:00

the pink did suck. I know that's not exactly what you said, but it really did suck. It's too cold outside for a hot pink background. We'll see how this navy works out.

Pink, it's my new obsession

2005-12-19T20:40:00.000-08:00

And I mean that purely in a "I like this pink template" sense.

OMG RACCOON, aka "Please excuse me while I use some profanity"

2005-12-17T03:41:00.000-08:00

Letter #1, Raychul storms around the house hating the raccoon and has a general bad attitude

Dear Mr. Raccoon-who-feels-compelled-to-dig-a-hole-in-the-wall-and-then-climb-out-into-the-bathroom-cabinet-below-the-sink,

Get the fuck out of my house.

Sincerely,

Rachel

Letter#2, Matt recalls with fondness his many adventures with his newest furry friend

Dear Kindly-raccoon-friend-who-only-created-trouble-out-of-friendliness,

You have indirectly done so much for our family, like when one of the policemen sent by Animal Control to confirm your existence asked how to pronounce the word "Baha'i" and then took a prayer book with him to look at. Thank you for solving the mouse problem by removing the the newspaper used to plug the hole around the sink's plumbing - this finally made it obvious to us that there was a gigantic fucking hole around the plumbing under our sink which was simply stuffed with a newspaper from 1983, and which is now boarded and nailed up. I lament for your ancestors who tried to make their way into our bathroom but were thwarted by the ingenious placement of newspaper, which we all know is so fucking strong and immovable, in the gigantic, cavernous gaping hole.

I apologize that you were frightened away by my wife, since you were obviously just trying to make first contact and only had good intentions. I wish I had been there when you pushed open the cabinet door with your cute little nose and stuck your head into the bathroom, thereby confirming that you were, indeed, sitting under our sink. Maybe you were just looking for some tylenol, unlike that junkie the mouse, who preferred chewing holes in bottles of Afrin and then ingesting it. Anyway, if I had been there instead of my wife, I would certainly not have slammed the bathroom door and run screaming away. I would have greeted your curious face with kindness, and said, "Oh, helloooo little friend! Won't you stay in our bathroom? Perhaps you'd like something to eat? We have a bunch of old garbage which I'm sure is quite delicious."

Anyway, please forgive my wife. She doesn't realize that this wouldn't have been near as entertaining a night without you.

In friendship,

Matt

Things that are awesome

2005-12-13T17:12:00.000-08:00

Awesome: running downstairs so that you can rush off to your first exam, and realizing as you put your things in the car that your left hand is NOT holding your Environmental Law textbook, but instead is holding your copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Awesomer: noticing this before you leave the house so that you can run back upstairs and grab the correct book.

But this would have been the Awesomest: NOT realizing your mistake until you'd arrived at school and sat down to take your exam. Using your mistake to shake the confidence of your fellow testtakers by finishing early and then making it very obvious that you're just reading Harry Potter.

All studying and no Dr. Pepper make Raychul something something . . .

2005-12-13T02:23:00.000-08:00

One of my hobbies is reading things on Craigslist. This is because Craigslist - like life - is full of crazies. I took a break from studying to peruse the "Pets" section of Austin Craiglist, because, you know, puppies and kittens are cute, and when I read the following I actually laughed out loud:

"Llamas for Adoption - 14 llamas, males $200 adoption fee,females $350 adoption fee. All sizes available"

Wow! Who wouldn't want to adopt a pet llama! Or two! Or fourteen!! And look - ALL SIZES! Silly me, I thought llamas just came in llama-sized, I didn't realize that I could order a giant sloth sized llama! Where do I sign up?? I would love to blow a couple thousand dollars on some llamas - I could keep them on my balcony, and my apartment complex would leave passive-aggressive warning notes on my door like they always do, only these would say something like:

"Dear Resident,

Please note that you are in violation of your lease. Section 2.0042 states that the balcony and breezeway areas must be kep clear of 'furniture, trash receptacles, and random farm animals'. Failure to remedy this violation within 24 hours will result in penalties under Section 2.0043.

Sincerely,

the Management"

Oh, and did I mention that I Love Alpacas?

Harry Potter casting

2005-12-12T17:56:00.000-08:00

So far the casting for the Harry Potter movies has been okay, but there are a few choices that I have to take issue with. First, replacement Dumbledore is terrible. Second, I think Alan Rickman makes Snape a little too funny, which isn't consistent with the books and might make it hard to transition into the events of Book 6. So I've been thinking about who might work for some characters that we haven't met in the movies, and I thought I might share.

First, I think Helena Bonham Carter would be fantastic as Bellatrix. She has those fantastic "heavily-lidded" eyes, and she's really good at playing characters that are slightly unhinged.

To stick with that family, I think Sienna Guillory would work well as Narcissa. It might be a more obscure choice, but I've seen her in a couple things as kind of a side character and she always kept my attention, and she has kind of a snobby quality that I like for this part.

Next, I think someone need to call Jeremy Irons right now and get him to play Rufus Scrimgeur (did I spell that right?) I may be biased since Jeremy Irons played Scar in the Lion King and Rufus is so often described as loking like a lion.

Last, I think Bill Nighy would be great as Mundungus. Bill Nighy played the guy who helped build planets in Hitchiker's Guide, if anyone call recall that part of the movie. He also played the aging rock star in Love Actually.

So, how does everyone feel about these picks?

Another post that references Jessica & Nick

2005-12-10T23:54:00.000-08:00

I am the worst blogger ever . . . but it isn't my fault! I swear! The blame for my negligence rests solely with UT Law and their insistence on making the poor law students take massive finals that turn your brain into mush. Actually, it only turns half your brain into mush, the part involving normal human contact. It turns the other half into well-oiled machinery of legal facts, so that you end up saying things in everyday conversation like "let's look at this from the perspective of institutional settlement" and "California is a community property state, so you know Nick's going to try and take half of Jessica's money."

I also feel like after awhile I won't be able to respond to people with anything but what I'm studying, so that soon Matt and I will sound like this:

M: Do you think we need to go to the grocery store?
R: For estate tax purposes, never let someone die with a remainder interest.
M: Umm . . . okay. Good to know. What about the grocery store?
R: Erie stands for the basic idea that federal courts have to apply state law to state issues!!
M: That's nice, dear.
R: Yes! Isn't it?
M: Maybe I should go to the grocery store and you can stay here and study.
R: Animals get designated as endangered through the listing process! The LISTING PROCESS!!
M: *Sigh* It's going to be a long month, isnt it?

And I know this has been said a million times this week, but OH MY GOODNESS WHY WAS IT SO COLD.

I don't eat buffalo

2005-11-25T16:05:00.000-08:00

Aww . . . I guess this isn't a surprise, but still . . . who knew that two mediocre music careers and a perfect pair of boobs weren't enough to keep a marriage together.

This really can't be healthy

2005-11-23T02:24:00.000-08:00

R: Are you playing against people online?
M: Yep. These guys must do nothing but play Halo though, because they're totally kicking my ass.
R: The problem is with your name. Look, these guys all have intimidating handles like "bunnykiller" and "007haloguy". You're just using your real name. That's not intimidating at all.
M: You're right. I need a better handle.
R: Ooh! How about "Justice_Scalia"!
M: *silence*
R: Come on, he's a pretty scary guy.
M: You've completely lost your mind, haven't you?

Clearing up some confusion

2005-11-17T12:08:00.000-08:00

A few points I need to make:

1. Yes, I am married.
2. That guy you see me study with? The one who looks EXACTLY like me? Well, he's actually my brother. Not my husband.
3. No, my brother is not my boyfriend, we are just studying together. Yes, you're right, most siblings don't hang out, I can see how that would be confusing . . . . if we lived in Arkansas.
4. Um, no, I didn't change my last name. So if you'd like to email my husband and I, and you look up email addresses for "Matt G" and "Rachel G" you have actually just looked up the email addresses for me and my brother. If you then email those addresses you've sent an email to me and my brother, causing him to then send me an email that says "who the hell is this person?"
5. Yes, it is strange that both my husband and brother are named Matt. But it is very convenient to yell at them, because I can go "MATTS!"
6. No, I don't get them confused. Do you get Paul McCartney and Paul Lindh confused just because they have the same first name?

Nerds r' Us

2005-11-12T02:25:00.000-08:00

Exactly twenty-four hours ago, I put the finishing touches on my seminar paper and emailed it to my Professor. I seriously considered going to bed for a few hours and then getting up at about eight am to email it then, so that it would seem like I had finished up early and was sending it right before a full day of work and school and making the world a better place. But who am I kidding? Professors know that we stay up all night finishing papers. So, as I said, I emailed my paper to him at four in the morning. And then I spent another hour cleaning up the books, the papers, and the general mess that the living room had become. And then I went to sleep. Ahhhh.

Tonight I'm up at four in the morning because Matt and I are playing video games. This is because we are nerds, and this is what nerds do. Soroush told me that once when Matt and I were late getting to a party at his house, someone started making sort of strange comments about how we were probably just at home getting it on instead of hanging out with our friends. "Hmm", I replied, "If by 'getting it on' you mean 'playing Halo', then yes, we are."

"Myyy Giiiirlfrieeeends"

2005-11-10T23:37:00.000-08:00

The worst part of writing a two million page paper is the night before it's due. I'm not a procrastinator about this type of thing, so the night before is when I'm making miniscule, mind-numbingly boring changes that no one is going to notice. It's when I do things like get my footnotes together, and use the "Find" function to make sure that I haven't accidentally used the word "pubic" when I meant to type "public". For a paper on "pubic forms of religious expression" is definately not going to get me a good grade.

The night before is also when I find ANYTHING YOU CAN POSSIBLY IMAGINE to distract me from finishing up. It's like my mind goes "you did the hard part, now let's stay up all night procrastinating on the easy part! Paaaaaaarty!!".

I thought I might share some of the things a person can do to put off finishing a paper. Feel free to borrow these ideas if you have an important assignment of your own. Note that all of the following items have been, or will be, perpetrated by myself this very night.

1. Blog. Case in Point.
2. Watch reruns of "Girlfriends" on the WB.
3. Google people. Preferably ex-boyfriends and mean girls.
4. Download Harry Potter trailers.
5. Eat all of the fruit in the fridge.
6. Try to wake your husband up in the middle of the night to see if he'll help distract you. (You can interpret that in whatever way you like.)
7. When that doesn't work, talk to the cat.
8. Paint toenails.
9. Look at real estate in Las Vegas.
10. Send grumbly emails to people about why Nick had that stupid mustache on tonight's CSI.

If I was a Supreme Court Justice . . . .

2005-11-07T19:36:00.000-08:00

"The Petitioners assert that the suit may be maintained due the particulars of the question presented. Namely, they rely on our previous indications that suits which seek to enforce contractual obligations against a state must be examined on different grounds than similarly situated tort claims. Respondents, on the other hand, rely on the extensive precedent requiring a clear statement from Congress of their intent to create such a remedy. The clear statement rule, which has been employed by this court in many areas of federal question, has been the source of much confusion. In many cases construing federal statutes, including the case at bar, the courts face the difficult question of attempting to glean from often unwieldy statutes and evidence whether Congress has met the amorphous clear statement threshold.

Because we beleive our previous clear statement tests have proved unworkable due to their vagueness, we now adopt what can best be termed the 'Super Badass In-Your-Face Clear Statement Rule': if Congress wishes to create a judicially enforceable remedy, they must clearly state their intent to do so by:

1. Including obvious language in the statute
2. Dressing the House majority leader up as a Turtle, writing on the back of his shell 'Clear Statement Turtle', and then parading him around the Lincoln Memorial on a leash while he holds the statute in his mouth
3. Notarizing the asses of every member of the Senate who actively participated in the development of said statute

We feel that this new test, while rigorous, will ensure that the intent of Congress is fairly determined and can then be adjudicated."

Ah do declare! I am offended, sir!

2005-11-01T01:07:00.000-08:00

I don’t consider myself easily offended. I like dirty jokes, you know? I’ll swear on occasion. I’ll watch an R-rated movie. But in the past few days I’ve been extremely offended on two separate instances. Neither of the offensive happenings were aimed directly at me, which leads me to wonder if I’m becoming over-sensitive. I also believe that not being so easily offended is just as important as trying not to offend people, but that belief has to coexist with justice: I’m all for not getting personally put off, but if someone says something totally wrong then I think it’s a person’s responsibility to say, on behalf of the world of civilized human beings, that they found that comment very inappropriate. If someone tells a terrible, racist joke I don’t think you should just ignore it, but I don’t think you should get in their face about it either. How about a simple “I know you weren’t serious, but I found that joke to be a little inappropriate.”? Obviously I’m not saying people have to act all P.C. around close friends, but I do think that in some situations, say, an office, where you don’t know everyone well, if someone crosses the line then they ought to be willing to listen to your opinion too. If not then they’re a douchebag.

Case in Point: Today, at my friend’s office, someone dressed up as a New Orleans looter for Halloween. Maybe this would be funny to some people if done a certain way, but even so how is that in any way an appropriate costume to wear to a large work setting? Furthermore, the specifics of this costume were such that I really can’t think of ANY PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE where anyone should be wearing them. I kid you not: the guy’s “costume” (if you can call an idiotic amalgamation of racism a costume) was that he pushed around a cart full of electronics, had painted on “blackface”, and wore a dreadlock wig. I AM TOTALLY SERIOUS. My friend said the guy is Hispanic, which makes me wonder if he’s one of those people who thinks that being a minority gives you the right to act like a racist asshole to other minorities. Guess what – you don’t have to be white to be prejudiced. It’s not okay for anyone to be racist. There is no civilized, educated person in the world who would think it’s appropriate to wear blackface as part of a costume, let alone as part of a racist costume, let alone as part of a racist costume that you wore in a public place. I hope that guy wears his costume on Sixth Street and gets the you-know-what beaten out of him by some people from New Orleans.

Some things are funny and un-offensive around your friends but offensive to others. Some things, though, are offensive no matter who finds them funny.

Case in Point #2 is less politically charged, but still got me upset. I’ll decline to go into specifics, but basically I think it’s offensive and presumptuous to send people an email insinuating that they’re neglecting important responsibilities for selfish desires, that they’re wasting precious time on material pursuits, just because they aren’t able to help you with a particular activity. They’re probably doing things that are just as important as what you’re doing, and assuming that they’re just piddling around and sending out guilty-trippy emails, as if they’ll read them and think “Gosh, maybe I should try to do something worthwhile instead of spending all my time doing crack” is unfair and hurtful, especially considering the fact that they would probably love to help you if they had the time.

*Deep breath. Okay, I think I’ve gotten everything off my chest. Aside from my newly discovered sensibilities everything is good. I’m working on a mammoth but very interesting paper that’s due in less than two weeks. Assault and Flattery auditions are ongoing.

I guess I should have been more specific

2005-10-25T22:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, by "somebody", I didn't mean somebody on the White Sox. Damnit to hell.

The 14th?? Are you KIDDING me?

2005-10-25T22:53:00.000-07:00

Please . . . . for the love of God . . . somebody do something . . . . just hit the freaking ball.

So we're BOTH smurfy

2005-10-25T15:27:00.000-07:00

Last month Matt and I had an argument about why Gargamel was always after the Smurfs. I distinctly remember episodes when he wanted to turn them into gold, while Matt swore that Gargamel actually wanted to eat the Smurfs. As it turns out, we are both correct:

From Wikipedia: Gargamel is the evil old wizard (though with very limited powers) whose main goal is to destroy the Smurfs . . . Sometimes he wants to eat them, while other times he wants to use them to make gold (according to an old magic spell), and other times still he has even more bizarre uses for them.

Congrats to PBS . . .

2005-10-18T23:22:00.000-07:00

. . . for airing the stupidest comment ever made in response to Hurricane Katrina:

"One of the things we forgot is that Katrina is a terrorist." - Jefferson Parish Emergency Management Director

A Tragic Tale from Fed Courts

2005-10-18T12:30:00.000-07:00

Going to class is super-useless when you forget your book and spend the whole time desperately trying to figure out what the heck your professor is talking about. It's even more useless when you give up trying to listen altogether and start shopping online.

Raychul likes to Overshare

2005-10-12T01:02:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I totally heart Oprah Winfrey. You can laugh at me and make sarcastic jokes if you want to, but she's an amazing person who not only overcame a lot of adversity to become hugely successful, she's also dedicated her life to making other people's lives better. All of you Oprah-haters can mosey along elsewhere.

Last Tuesday the Oprah show was about child predators/sex offenders, and she featured pictures about ten of the FBI's most wanted child predators. Within six days - six freaking days - tips from her viewers had led the FBI to catch two of the wanted guys, one of whom was in BELIZE. Did you know they got the Oprah show in Belize? Me neither!

Today they did a follow-up where they had on two of the women that tipped off the FBI. The upshot of all this is that I didn't even make it through the whole episode: by the time the tipsters got to meet the mother and grandmother of two of the boys that had been abused by the fugitive they helped capture, and all four women were hugging and crying, and Oprah started crying, and her whole audience of well-dressed women was crying, I was pretty much a bawling mess of basket-casey goodness, propped up by midol and lack of sleep, and I had to turn the show off and do something less emotionally exhausting. Like eat an entire bag of mini kitkats that were supposed to go in the Halloween candy pumpkin.

Why do I act like this? Am I genetically programmed this way because of my gender, or do I indulge my craziness because I think I can get away with it? WHY, OH WHY, DO I EAT BAGS OF CHOCOLATE THREE DAYS OUT OF THE MONTH, when the rest of the time I can barely eat a whole cookie?? Times like this I really miss Nas, because she would surely be able to answer me by saying something like "well, researchers at cambridge did a study on female hormones during menstruation and found that the ratio of sensitivity between your various taste zones actually changes when you're on your period, causing you to be more prone to want sweets." That's what I'm looking for: validation of my crazy ways.

Texans are crazy

2005-10-10T11:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Sorority-Girl-in-the-Navy-Sweater,

I understand that you're a little chilly. I get that the blistering, lip-chapping 65 degree breeze is making life difficult for you. But I have to say - really, I have to to say - that there is really no reason for you to be wearing mittens. First of all, you're not six years old. Buy yourself some big people gloves. Second, there is simply no freakin reason for you to be so cold that you need mittens. I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume that you're wearing wool mittens because of some painful hand disfigurement. But, knowing Texans as I do, I find this highly unlikely. I think what probably happened was that you got out of bed and thought "Holy crap! It's like, totally cold outside! I'm SO going to freeze if I don't wear my mittens! Eeeeh!"

Glad I got that off my chest.

Raychul

For Everything Else, there's Mastercard

2005-10-03T21:21:00.000-07:00

Federal Courts Casebook: $109

Folder for syllabus and handouts: $2

Being in a class where your professor introduces an area of Supreme Court caselaw by saying "This area is best summed up by one of my favorite quotes from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer . . .'": Priceless.

Growing Up Giani is a religious experience

2005-10-03T15:47:00.000-07:00

Raychul: So then Joseph became a slave?
Mom: Yes, but then he ended up becoming the most trusted advisor or something like that. And then he was is prison for awhile because the pharoah or lord or whatever's wife claimed he tried to, you know, lie with her.
Raychul: Lie with her. Nice use of biblical terminology.
Mom: Thanks.
Raychul: I feel like I've seen this story via musical theatre, but I can't remember in what. Would I have seen that in Godspell or in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?

SO COOL. If you're a dork like me.

2005-09-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

Screw the headlines about Tom Delay. This is by far one of the coolest things to happen in awhile.

I hold these truths to be self-evident

2005-09-27T12:24:00.000-07:00

It's common knowledge that your first year of law school kind of sucks. But you're always being assured that there's light at the end of the tunnel by people who say things like, "Don't worry - your second year is much easier." To those people I would like to say one thing: LIARS. YOU ARE A BUNCH OF LIARS. To all the 1L's of the world: there is no light at the end of the tunnel. And if you think you see one don't be fooled - it's actually the scorching, relentless 107 degree sun, which will see fit to come out every time you have to get suited up for an interview.

Okay. I'm done ranting. For now.

In other news, thanks to all the peeps who came out on Friday to hear Matt and I talk about the Baha'i perspective on marriage and relationships. You guys are awesome. Sorry if we inflicted any permanent harm.

Recently Matt and I have been cleaning out our closets and drawers (dresser drawers - not underwear). I think we've generally done a pretty good job of putting together the clothes that we don't wear, but we're a little stuck when it comes to comfy, sleep-worthy t-shirts. A long time ago we gave up on the "my t-shirt, your t-shirt" thing, and created a communal t-shirt drawer. Since then it's spilled over due to the massive number of t-shirts we own, and at this point half of Matt's underwear drawer is full of t-shirts (I wonder how many times I can mention underwear in this post?)

I've tried to give them away but Matt seems very attached. When I start going through the piles to try and weed out some give-aways Matt gets this really troubled look on his face. It's a look very similar to the one Neville gets when we take away his food dish so that it can be cleaned.

Matt has a lot of very cool t-shirts that he wears out of the house (Examples: a navy blue t-shirt with a transformer on it, a black one that says "Let me drop everything and work on your problem"). But his sleep t-shirts, which I have conveniently appropiated as my sleep t-shirts, paint quite a different picture. He's somehow amassed an incredible collection of what I call his "white people shirts". These shirts deal primarily with hunting and fishing, but they cover other topics as well. Some of my favorites include:

- A gray t-shirt called "my huntin' excuses", which has a cartoon picture of a hunter and then a bunch of different lame things you might say if that deer got away
- One that says "I fish, therefore I lie"
- Dr.Evil saying "why must I be surrounded by frickin' idiots?"
- 2 identical shirts that say "Juneau" and have a picture of Alaskan mountains
- 2 identical shirts that say "Galveston"
- 2 identical shirts that say "I'm a Mayflower descendent"

And my personal favorite:

- "Women want me, Bass fear me"

I find these shirts oddly fascinating. Who is this man I'm married to? Is he going to start dragging be out on a sailboat and making me put icky worms on a fishing pole? And where did he get all of these shirts?

A couple of them were gifts from various family members and friends so I can understand why he wants to keep them, but the situation is out of control. I have t-shirts coming out of my ears. Not to mention that we have all these shirts from Baha'i conferences which I feel guilty giving away, and the fact that law school organizations give away free t-shirts as if they're penny candy. And when did t-shirts get so long? You have to get the smallest size available so that people don't think you're wearing a dress.

I think we just need to make it a household policy that we can't accept anymore t-shirts. I know that sounds harsh, but there have to be people out there who need free t-shirts more than we do. And all those organizations that say "the cost is only $15 but it includes a t-shirt" - how about you just charge me five bucks and I'll wear one of the eight million t-shirts that I already have. Maybe I'll even wear one of the fishing shirts.

Update/ Growing up Giani, Part II

2005-09-22T15:02:00.000-07:00

Not being near the mandatory evacuation areas, my parents have decided to hunker down in Houston rather than fight twenty hours of traffic. Personally, I think this is stupid. What the heck are they going to do if they don't have power for two days? I called them to try and make my point, and this is the conversation we ended up having:

R: So you're just going to stay?
Dad: Well, you know, the hurricane has shifted and we're not anywhere near the evacuation areas, so we just figured this made more sense.
R: How does that make sense? You're just going to sit around in the dark?
Dad: It's not really the rain that concerns me so much as the wind. Hopefully the roof won't blow off or anything.
R: Did you at least get some supplies?
Dad: Look, we went to try and get some stuff but the stores were totally sold out of water and batteries and things . . . we did stop at Barnes & Nobles to get some books to read since we probably won't be able to go anywhere.
*Silence*
Dad: Honey?
R: You didn't get any emergency supplies, but you got books? Books to read in the dark??
Dad: Well, we have candles.
R: I give up. There's no talking sense into you people.

And people wonder why I am the way I am. Times like these make me very glad that my brother lives in Austin so that I can call him up and share each piece of new evidence that our family is crazy.

Can it just be winter now? Please?

2005-09-21T15:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Hurricanes,

You suck.

Sincerely,

Rachel

Things to do during Third Year of Law School:

2005-09-20T23:46:00.000-07:00

1. Take a lot of classes without attendance requirements. Skip them all.

2. Show up in pajamas.

3. Sleep.

4. Throw water balloons off the breezeway onto the people in the Courtyard.

5. Pierce something really visible.

6. Give noogies to 1L's.

7. Pretend to be a recruiter from Wolfram & Hart. Hold interviews.

8. Crash every single catered party held at the law school.

9. Open interdimensional portal to alternative universe where "the Bar" is actually a game of Candy Land. With the cards for that freaky licorice guy taken out.

10. Have loud conversation near groups of 2L's where you say things like "man, is it good to finally get to relax."

11. Sleep some more.

Posting from Fed Courts, Part 1

2005-09-20T12:30:00.000-07:00

Do you know what sucks? When you don't get enough sleep and then you have like seven straight hours of class.

Another thing that sucks is when you shove a peanut butter sandwich into your mouth like a ravenous wolf while you're waiting for the light to turn green, and then you look up and realize that a homeless person has been standing at your driver's side window and staring at you the whole time. It sucks even more when you find this situation kind of funny, in a "this is like a sitcom" way.

In other news, did you know that "parity" is a word? Parity = the opposite if disparity.

Ides of September

2005-09-14T23:19:00.000-07:00

Fall is by far my favorite season. Even in Texas where we don't really get beautiful foliage, the first cold front is enough to completely change the atmosphere. Summer seems to wear out it's welcome in Texas; it's that friend who comes into town and keeps deciding to extend his trip one more weekend. To me, summer is halter tops and rap music, lying by the pool, staying out too late, wearing light nail polish and bright colors. There's something so juvenile about the summertime. It's too extreme and too crazy. Everyone is half-naked so nothing really seems sexy. Social interaction takes place over melty ice cream and is finished in about half an hour. People traipse off to exotic locales or stay home and shop for that new pair of plastic sandals.

Fall, on the other hand, has some weight to it. In the fall you have long conversations over coffee while looking chic in a sweater and jeans. Fall is dark lipstick and spicy perfume; it's baking cookies and visiting family. I think that Fall is also a much more grown-up season than summer. When you stay up late on a summer night it's to go out dancing with friends, when you stay up late in the fall it's to curl up on the couch and watch your favorite movie.

When you're married it's surprising what things make you feel married. Things like watching the Late Show together in bed while one of you reads the paper (or, in our case, while one of you reads online news.) And I always get really excited about all the couple-y things to do in the Fall. I wish it would go ahead and get cold so that we could bake sugar cookies, or so that we had some justification for staying in all night and playing video games. I'm ready to break out my sweaters, to buy a new wool coat, and to finally get a pair of knee-high boots.

Bottom line: I'm not an out-doorsy sort of girl. And when it's all nice outside you can't do anything without feeling like you're "wasting" the weather. But when it's cold and windy and kayaking would be out of the question, all of the options involve being indoors and performing a sort of human hibernation that centers around food and cuddling.

So away with you summer! Be gone! I tire of your heat and your humidity, and of my through-the-roof air conditioning bills. How about if I promised to bake you some cookies?

Growing Up Giani

2005-09-12T21:44:00.000-07:00

R: Dude, let me read you the description of this crazy case - oh, sorry. I'll tell you after you finish your Manifesto.

MG: Cool.

Not a Native Speaker

2005-09-12T01:11:00.000-07:00

There was a time in my life when I felt like I spoke a foreign language; like I didn't have the ability to say what I needed to. I wondered if I would ever know the words to express certain things, to take that all-important step in dealing with personal struggles that is sharing them with another person. Maybe that's why I always had so much trouble being part of reality: so much of what was real to me was going on inside my head.

I think I've come a long way. I took baby steps; first I learned to say simple things like "this hurts me" and "i need help with this". And eventually a good friend showed me that I, just like everyone else, was capable of crying in front of another person. Slowly I lost my accent, I built up my vocabulary, until I could make it through almost every day without anyone realizing how much of a struggle it was for me.

But there are still times when it all gets to be too much, when too many things are happening around me and in my head, and I simply can't manage to translate what's inside of me. I can write a paper or a legal memo that will put a thesaurus to shame, but when it really matters I don't have any words at all. I become incapable of saying anything

Saying something to another person makes it real.

Sometimes life is like an 80's movie

2005-09-04T23:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you drive home late at night, mulling over all the studying still have to do, sighing at all of the challenges you face. And sometimes as you make your way home, "Hold On" by Wilson Phillips will come on the radio, forcing you to turn the volume up and roll down the windows and to sing at the top of your lungs, your large and curly hair blowing in the wind in a testament to all that is 80's and flourescent. You will finish your work - of course you will! And when you've finished, the coolest guy in school will ask you to the prom and you will celebrate by purchasing a new vest and some Sassoons.

Maybe the tiniest bit of me bleeds burnt orange

2005-09-01T23:18:00.000-07:00

It's hard not knowing what to do, hard feeling disconnected and helpless as you funnel invisible money to the Red Cross via the miracle of the net. It's hard that it isn't less hard; that we can shake our heads in disbelief while watching the news from our comfortable chairs and beds and lives.

I know that I complain about Law School too much and about how it can be so competitive and cutthroat and soulless. It's not always these things. This afternoon an email was sent out to all of the law students that said:

While registration problems are critical, they pale in comparison to what our neighbors are experiencing after Katrina. I'm sure that you are deeply concerned about their situation and wondering what we as a law school community can do. Rest assured that our administration is working with Tulane Law School and offering assistance in several ways. One of those is our Admissions Office admitting Tulane upper-division students as visitors. So expect to see some new faces next week. Your helping them get adjusted to Austin and UT and catching up in classes will be greatly appreciated. Additionally, some of our students are from the affected area. If you need to go home to be with your family but can't due to financial reasons, please see Dean Powers or me. Please let us know what you need.

As evidence of the fact that I'm a hidden sap, I actually got a little teary-eyed reading the email. It's amazing to see how willing everyone is to help out, and to feel like you're part of an organization or program that's willing to do what they can.

I think I'll be wearing my UT Law t-shirt tomorrow.

Back to schoool, back to schooool

2005-08-31T22:19:00.000-07:00

As happy as I am that UT Law made the decision to get rid of the Subway-o'-Scary-Meat, I'm having trouble understanding why they haven't put any new restaurants in yet. Are we too fat? Do they want us to starve so that we talk less? Right now the only choices a hungry law student has are:

1. Candy or chips from the vending machines
2. An assortment of "day old pastries" from the coffee cart.
3. Licking the floor of that room where they have all the buffet meet and greets in the hopes of subsisting off of dehydrated barbecue sauce.

I find these options unappealing at best.

There are also a damn lot of people in the hallways. Where did they all come from? Were there this many people last year? As 1L's you tend to move in packs, but as a now-haughty 2L I'm usually walking around without a posse - I think this makes the packs of 1L's seem a lot bigger and a lot more in the way. I can understand all the glares we got last year when we all trooped to class ten minutes early and crowded up the halls. Sorry. We didn't know any better.

The most interesting readings that I've done so far were assigned with the direction "this is just general - we won't discuss in class". They were about the question of inheritance, and whether or not it should be allowed. I'd never really considered the concept of disallowing inheritance so I was pretty intrigued. And the debate centers around a conflict that I feel a lot when I try to evaluate certain issues: We don't want to perpetuate extremes of wealth and poverty, but we're a very individualist people who can't imagine taking someone's property away.

One guy (by "guy" I mean "respected scholar whose name escapes me") makes a good point that the idea of inheritance not be as natural of a right as we think. One guy suggests that you should only be able to bequeath a certain amount of money/property, and says that healthy, adult children of the deceased shouldn't get anything. I think this idea is kind of crappy, especially when taken to extremes.

Another guy says we should just make it that no one can inherit more than $1 million in their lifetime. Then he points out that his plan will never get support (then why suggest it?) bc liberals want inheritance reform that puts money into the state, where they (liberals) can share in decisions about what to do with it. He basically says that they're pushing for a very specific reform under the guise of fairness when it's really about power (for the record, I have no idea if this is true,but I thought it was interesting).

Then a bunch of these guys get to the issue of true inherited wealth, and some of them say that even eliminating inheritance wouldn't change the class system bc the primary method of class transmission happens in the form of social and formal education. So what if your kid won't get your ten million when you die? You can use it to send him to the best schools,the best college, he can travel around the world and learn 7 languages. He'll become rich on his own bc of the advantages of your wealth.

Interesting theories, eh? I feel like a lot of them are just empty rhetoric to try and justify keeping things the same, but I thought I'd share bc I hadn't read that much about the topic before.

I don't wanna

2005-08-30T20:51:00.000-07:00

School starts in t-minus twelve hours. And what am I doing? Playing Halo baby, yeaaaahhh!

Long Live procrastination.

Eavesdropping

2005-08-20T00:56:00.000-07:00

While many like to people-watch, only a few of us enjoy the extreme sport that is people-listening, also known as glorified eavesdropping. I qualify the act because I feel that, if you're talking so loud in a public place that I can hear you from 20 feet away, you have no right to get mad if I listen to your conversation. Today I heard the greatest comment from a girl on a cellphone:

"I mean, I totally want to be with him, but . . .well, it's not that I want to change everything about him, I just, like, want to change most things about him. But I still totally want to be with him."

Good luck with that, sweetie. Erin and I will be seeing you on Oprah.

Also, a note for anyone who frequents Fry's Electronics: If you're going to play Dance Dance Revolution in the store, in front of everyone, for heaven's sake at least TRY to move your arms when you dance. Seriously, didn't you see that Seinfeld episode about the girl who didn't move her arms when she walked? Okay, now picture that, but it's the man who doesn't move his arms when he plays Dance Dance Revolution. It just looks weird. I actually had to do an impression of what it looked like, and then Matt made me do the impression again in the HEB parking lot in exchange for a smoothie.

And now some notes for the horribly underqualified and inept waitstaff of pretty much every damn restaurant in Austin (excluding M and Z, of course):
(1) Don't take more than five minutes to seat me if I have a reservation. I will complain. The dimples are only here to lull you into a false sense of security.
(2) If you forget to order my salad, and I ask the random waitress who brought out our main course to go ahead and cancel the salad since our friggin food is here already, do NOT bring out the tiny side salad ten minutes later and mumble "I was just getting your salad - but they said that you don't want it anymore?" Do not feign surprise to cover your ineptitude.
(3) When I accept the now unecessary salad in a RARE attempt to be gracious, DO NOT bring the check with the salad charged on it and say "So, did you not want me to charge you for that salad?" That's where my patience ends.
(4) Oh, and I know this is a little late, but please take a second to COUNT the money a table has left for you before frantically chasing them down fourth street to let them know they've stiffed you, thereby forcing Nikki to give you a crash lesson in basic addition, causing much embarassment to yourself, and causing me to manifest early signs of aging due to my having to give you such a pronounced look of annoyance.

And bring me my Dr.Pepper. If all else fails, at least I'll be in a good mood.

UA

2005-08-17T19:41:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend Alia came up with my new mantra: "You can't do that if you have kids." She made this statement after I was telling her about my Friday night, and how Matt and I had stayed up until five in the morning watching CSI. Earlier we'd been commiserating about the annoying phenonemeon called Unsolicited Advice. Unsolicited Advice, also known as "UA", is - funnily enough - usually given by people who don't know you every well. It also frequently involves topics that I prefer to be somewhat coy about. Really, I can't be the only one who has to fight the urge to kick something when some random person who's never been in a serious relationship decides to give me marriage advice.

Apparently two years of marriage is the point when a lot of people decide to try and convince you to give up whatever you're doing and have kids. Just quit law school and have a baby! Funnily enough, for every person who's like "You don't really know happiness until you have a baby, your marriage is meaningless without children, blah blah blah", there's someone else who's all "I had kids young and it was a BIG mistake - you should wait until you're older".

These diametrically opposite pieces of advice piss me off equally, because the basic premise of all advice is that the advice-giver is qualified to give suggestions. Guess what: just because something worked for you doesn't mean it will work for someone else. Why don't people know this? Why can't people accept that everyone is different? I don't deny that children are wonderful and unimaginably life-changing, and I certainly want to have them some day, but I think that it's really key to wait to have kids until you don't feel like it would comepletely ruin your life. Call me crazy.

I don't mind people who give advice catered to my situation, like "I had kids young and it was what I wanted, but I can understand why you would want to wait" or "Children are wonderful and it's hard to have them in your forties, but you have to do what's right for you." I do mind people who act like their mission on this earth is to convince me to run home and yell, "Forget what we've talked about honey! Let's impregnate me!".

Alia says she's been having this problem too. I feel like some of the biggest UA-givers are other Baha'i's. The Baha'i Faith teaches that the family is the most basic building block of society, which makes more sense than I can even understand. Your family is where it all begins, where you learn the basis of everything else you'll learn in life. I think that because of this, and because of the kind of anti-family trends in some parts of America, some Baha'i adults confuse being family oriented with having kids as soon as possible. I can sympathize with this, but it's not accurate. We're also told in the Baha'i writings that the worst thing a parent to do is fail to educate their children (I'm paraphrasing). Most people take "education" to mean more than putting your kids in school, but that you have to educate your children morally and spiritually. I don't think anyone is ever "ready" to have kids, but you have to at least be willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary. Why are we trying to convince people to breed if they can't take care of their kids? Why do we want selfish, lazy parents in the world?

My life is so much fun right now. So much fun. I have to do what's right for me, regardless of annoying people who project their regrets onto others. Not everyone should get married at 21, and not everyone should have kids at 24. And blogging at three in the morning? You can't do that if you have kids.

This "internet" you speak of . . .

2005-08-15T22:56:00.000-07:00

As per the recommendation of Ms. Genious Q. Esquire (Erin) I put my first year books up for sale on Amazon and - voila! - less than 24 hours later 5 out of the 7 books are GONE baby. So if you're really hoping to read you some Civil Procedure for a decent price, I'd get on that ASAP.

The internet is great. My new favorite waste of time is browsing the "wanted" category on Craigslist. It's fun - you get to look at some anonymous blurb about what someone desperately needs and try to extrapolate as much as you can about the person posting. I mean, people are looking for some random items. For example (I swear, these are copied directly from Craiglist):

"WANTED:your non-working electric dryer..."

"I LOOKING FOR WHEELCHAIR ,MY GRANDMOTHER NEED WHELLCHAIR.THANKS."

"Luau decorations needed 4 Beach Party - Free boobs"

And that's just getting started! Another great Craigslist category is "Barter", where instead of saying "I need dead monkeys" a person can post "Will trade ten pound box of glitter for dead monkeys". Here are some of my current favorites:

"TRADE - My SCHOOL BUS for your CONCESSION TRAILER or ???"

"massage for Schlitterbahn tickets"

And my personal favorite Craiglist posting ever (I'll even include the body of the posting because it's just that great):

"Will Trade a Turkey Slicer for One Sticky Midget - Looking for a sticky midget who doesn't drink or smoke, and has had their shots. Must be Catholic and not afraid of water. Yodling is a plus. Serious inquiries only."

I mean . . .what do you even say to that?

Free boobs indeed.

Paint with all the colors of the wind

2005-08-09T22:13:00.000-07:00

When Matt said he wanted to go to Old San Francisco Steak House for his birthday I tried to explain about the girl on the swing, and about the brothel-like decor. But he likes to try new restaurants, and we figured it was too late to make reservations at somewhere nice like Ruth's Chris. My description of Old San Francisco didn't change his mind, but when we walked in the door and an old lady in a feather boa asked if it was anyone's birthday Matt looked like he'd just entered the Twilight Zone. My man is good at many things, but hiding his emotions is not one of them, and I think everyone at the restaurant could tell that he was in shock. "What decade is this supposed to be from?" he asked, "and why was that old lady dressed like that?".

And when our eyeliner-clad waiter rewarded out patronage with bread and that ten-pound block of cheese, my lactose intolerant husband actually did a double take. Then he whispered, "Is this a birthday joke you're playing on me? Is that why they asked if it's my birthday?"

When I pointed out that every table had a massive square of cheese and he was convinced that it wasn't some weird birthday prank, he was somewhat mollified.

But then the singing started.

The swing girl didn't have a bad voice, not exactly. She could carry a tune, and she made some brave but foolish attempts to tap-dance while singing jazzy show tunes. We giggled, but we could deal. The other patrons applauded politely when the song finished, and then someone yelled "Another!"

The piano player started up again and Our Lady of the Swing gripped her mic, ready to pelt us with song. "You think you ooooown whatever laaaaand you laaaand oooon", she crooned into the audience, "The earth is just a dead thing you can claaaaaaiiiim." Matt and I looked at each other. "Is this the song from Pocahontas?", I asked incredulously. Matt was starting to laugh, "This is totally out of place. How does this fit at all?"

The Swing Girl kept on torturing us as we giggled through our meal, but she looked affronted when I put in a request for "Baby Got Back", so we tried to keep somewhat quiet. The steak wasn't bad, and personally, I loved the hunk of cheese.

Then we headed home, deftly skipping out on an invitation to go see Dukes of Hazzard. (Why Hollywood executives, WHY?) Saturday night we went to County Line with a motley crew including the newly returned and victorious Alia and Chris, Chris's charming and extremely endearing British friends, Carla and Erik, and, of course, the Giani-Sherrill's. While waiting for a table we hung out on the restaurant's back porch, watching the turtles and listening to live music. At one point the microphone was handed over to a kid who looked about seven. He grinned as he started singing softly and his mother smiled encouragingly. We were all craning our necks and trying to figure out what he was signing when one of the British boys said, "I believe he's signing 'Complicated' by Avril Lavigne." Sure enough.

All in all it was a good, but weird, weekend. Full of random singing. I think maybe this is karma coming to get me, since last week I "helped" Matt stay awake on the drive back to from San Francisco by singing all of the songs from "The Wizard or Oz", complete with character voices for the munchkins.

Happy Birthday Husband

2005-08-04T23:49:00.000-07:00

Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair . . .

2005-08-01T16:25:00.000-07:00

I have a confession. A shocking, sordid confession: I think I've been converted.

No, no! Not my religion, silly. And I'm still a woman, if that was your next question. I'm talking about California - I think I actually like this place. I was okay with Sacramento, with the burbs; they were pretty much just like places in Texas. But yesterday we drove through the hills and over many bridges into the bay area, and eventually parked the car along the water in San Francisco. Some parts of California may be ugly, but San Francisco if beautiful, and the cities around it are almost as beautiful. And the weather is perfect: I could spent every summer day in a comfy creation of sweater-over-tank-top that would take me from 75 degree midday to chilly evening. I could even get use to having loose, windswept curls. And I love the hills, overlooking the water, and the closeness of the homes that you can escape simply by driving a couple miles down to the piers. I love the idea of the openness that everyone says San Francisco is famous for - though we weren't really there long enough for me to find out if that reputation is deserved. I loved the hordes of international tourists that give the waterfront restaurants reason to print menus in at least five languages. I love knowing that, right around the corner from those tourist-oriented restaurants, there's some tiny, unadvertised bakery with the best food you've ever tasted.

And most of all, I love that San Francisco is a city. Austin is wonderful, but I think it'll always feel like a town to me. "City" has connotations with history, with dirty streets and downtown building facades that were built in the thirties. Austin is too new - in some respects - to give me that sense of being in a place that has deep roots. Even San Antonio, with its missions and its crumbling downtown blocks, feels like more of a real city than Austin.

I don't think I'll ever be able to live anywhere that's landlocked and dry. Being in a place with no water, even in Sacramento, makes me feel claustrophobic. Nothing is worse than being in a city that's flat, dry, and fully paved. I may not be the biggest fan of nature, but I don't think I could spent every day with so many layers between my feet and the earth that I forget the earth is even there.

I wish they all could be California girls

2005-07-30T14:40:00.000-07:00

(That was just a totally random inclusion of lyrics with the word "California" in them.)

In my never-ending quest to dispel my ignorance about all things nature-y, I spent about ten minutes yesterday chasing some wild turkeys with my camera and trying to take their picture. Wild turkeys, people!! Did you even know that there were wild turkeys? The turkeys were totally uninterested, and I think they were a still pissed that they lost the whole national mascot thing to the eagle. When there was no one else around I gobbled at them but they didn't answer. In fact, they were utterly nonplussed by my pursuit, but they were hanging out in a mall parking lot, so I guess they're cool with humans.

In retrospect, chasing the turkeys probably wasn't the best idea, since our feathered friends tend to totally hate me. Seriously. They HATE me. Last time I went fishing I got attacked by a huge goose, even though I was minding my own business and being very polite. And last time I went to the zoo an emu tried to kill me but ended up stealing a little boy's hat instead. I'm hoping the California birds haven't gotten the "let's all try to attack Rachel" memo yet.

In other really useless news that has nothing to do with anything, I also ran into a glass door yesterday. Ouch.

Right now Nas has an interesting post up about how tons of people she knows have gotten married in the past few years, many of them in their early twenties. It's weird that she posted it now, because I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately - both mine and marriage in general.

The main reason we're in California is because Matt had to come for work, and I'm here to help him. I think this is probably viewed by some people as the latest example of what they consider our childish refusal to be apart for more than a few days. When we were first married and we'd make decisions like this people would pass it off as a newlywed thing. But even then I was aware that many of those people - and many other people I know - have been okay with being apart, even when they were newly married. And I felt pretty confident that, two to three years later, Matt and I would still feel the same way. And you know what? I feel pretty confident that we'll feel the same way in five years.

The biggest advocates of the "Matt and Rachel stay in different cities" plan have often been the people who are supposed to know us best. When we were dating and Matt was looking for a job, he got offered something for a large company. The money was good, but he'd work ten day shifts doing computer stuff on offshore oil rigs. Pretty much everyone told him to take the job, and said he might not find anything else for a long time. But when I asked him what he wanted, he felt the same way I did - that the money isn't worth it if your life sucks. And only a month later he found the Perfect Job for a great company in Austin, and he moved here, and we got married. Score: Matt + Rachel - 1 point, Naysayers - 0 points.

Now certain people are very fond of calling me and saying things like "So I have this great contact at [insert name of large law firm]. Want me to send them your resume?". To which I reply that, since your contact works in [insert name of city that is not Austin], I'm not all that interested, because, as you know, Matt works in Austin. At that point these ever-helpful people suggest that I should work at the best-paying job possible, and that I can just rent an apartment if that job is in another city. Because, you know, it's only for a couple months.

Here's what I have to say to these people: you don't get it. You don't have to get it. I don't really care either way. However, you can stop giving me the same suggestion over and over and hoping that all of a sudden I'll go "Wait! I just realized that I do love money more than my husband!". Not that I don't love money - I love it probably too much, and I plan to make enough of it to have a good life. But I think it comes second to my husband. And I know that if you read this you'd get all huffy and say that you aren't suggesting picking money over anyone, you're just saying I should be practical. Practical for you may not be practical for me. And even though it might not look like money vs. husband to you, it looks that way to me.

And you can read this and think, "Silly girl. In five years you won't mind if you travel for weeks at a time, and you'll realize that money is extremely important, and you'll be okay with being apart if that's what has to happen for your career". But in five years from now I'll still be here, helping my husband hook up network cables, proving you wrong by being happy with my life, and the Score will be: Matt + Rachel - 7564 points, Naysayers - 0 points.

California . . .sort of knows how to party

2005-07-28T21:07:00.000-07:00

(That was a Tupac reference, people. Get with it.)

Today the Giani-Sherrill's hopped on a plane and flew to California, the land allegedly of swimming pools and movie stars. I have yet to confirm the actual existence of the aforementioned movie stars - Sacramento isn't really the hippest place in the state - and we weren't even able to find a hotel with an outdoor pool.

Actually, we aren't technically in Sacramento; we're in a city ten minutes East called Roseville (a.k.a "The most cookie-cutter, suburban place ever created".) I don't mean to offend by my comments - the town is actually very nice, and is conveniently situated only a couple hours from San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, and Yosemite Nat'l Park. I've always wanted to visit San Francisco, and I'll be damned if I leave this state without seeing Fisherman's Wharf and eatin' me some yummy seafood.

We're also not technically here for vacation - Matt had to come for work to do a bunch of things necessary for his company's California office to relocate. The company he works for is really awesome and was cool with me coming to help him and with us doing some fun stuff when work is done. (For all of the law students - anything we do would probably be considered a frolic. I think. Anyone?) Beyond providing moral support and helping carry the tiny boxes I'm not very good at helping because I have no idea what he's doing, and when he tries to explain it I feel like a first year student in a foreign language class.

I know next to nothing about California, except that I've never met anyone who feels lukewarm about the idea of living here. People are either obsessed with being from California or they act like it's Hell on earth. I think a lot of people are basing their opinions on what they think of L.A., which really doesn't interest me, but the extreme opinions have definately caused me to expect that California should be Very Interesting. I'll get back to you on that one . . .

Raychul don't know nothin' bout animals, Part 3

2005-07-25T23:47:00.000-07:00

Adam: Last time he went on vacation all he told us about was how he saw Canadian geese.
Raychul: How do you know the geese were Canadian??
Adam: *totally deadpan* Well, we're from Canada, so we can tell.
Raychul: Huh? How!?
Brian: Canadian Geese are a species of geese - it's not like, geese that live in Canada.
Raychul: . . .Oh.

Raychul hearts Books

2005-07-19T23:08:00.000-07:00

“Reading Lolita in Tehran” is the story of an Iranian literature professor, Dr. Azar Nafisi, who returns to her home in Tehran only to become trapped there in the wake of Iran’s religious revolution of the early 1980’s. On the most surface level, the story it tells is of Nafisi’s time in Iran – her teaching, her family, and, most importantly, the secret book club she held in her home with nine of her best female students. Below the obvious narrative is another tale, the story of a story. Or rather, the story of the power of stories.

In the Arabian novel “A Thousand and One Nights”, the tales given to the reader are really stories within a greater story: the tale of Schererazade’s triumph over the domineering and brutal king through her imagination. The king, pushed to the brink of madness, marries a virgin each night and kills her the next morning. Schererazade volunteers to be the king’s next bride, but each evening, before they can consummate their union, she says they must wait because she has to tell him a story. In this way, she puts off her demise until the king himself is free from his obsession. The tales in the book are Schererazade’s; they are her way out of the life that is being forced upon her, and indeed upon all of the women in her kingdom.

Azar Nafisi opens up her memoir of life in Iran with reference to "A Thousand and One Nights", just as she opens up her first meeting of the secret book club. The reason for this choice becomes clear as Nafisi weaves her tales of life in Iran, as she writes about her girls under pretend names lest the Iranian authorizes find them today. Nafisi, like the fictional Schererazade, is subject to the imposition of what she calls a “fictional reality”, a way of life imagined by another and thrust upon those unlucky enough to lack the ability to escape. Both heroines realize that their only escape – indeed, anyone’s only escape – is in circumventing reality as it’s framed by the dominant group or individual. Both heroines also accomplish this in the same way: by framing another reality through storytelling.

I’ve always believed that telling a story is more than just conveying information or ideas, but I’d never really conceived of storytelling as subversive. Now it makes sense to me that in a reality where the very information people have access to is controlled with an iron fist, making information available outside of the dominant metaphor is the very essence of subversion. This is what Schererazade knew: her escape lay in creating another reality, a reality beyond what her new husband knew. And it seems that Nafisi subtely continues this tradition by exposing her students – also the unwitting objects of a male-dominated, violent regime – to the realities that are denied them in the contraband stories that Americans toss aside in exchange for the Cliff’s Notes.

Roland Barthe explains this phenomenon of multiple realities in Mythologies, where he outlines his understanding of what he calls myth. A myth, according to Barthe, is any narrative. He also points out something that we all know: the story that we know as true is always the narrative of the dominant. But Barthe goes beyond this to say that, despite what we accept, there simply is no narrative that’s true: every version of history is colored by perspective, and no narrative is unbiased. Knowing this, our job is to be mythologists, by constantly striving to deconstruct the narratives we’re told until we find our own truth.

I’m not a person who believes that there’s no absolute truth. But even the existence of an absolute doesn’t get around the fact that our knowledge of it is based on our own perspective, and is as unique to each of us as our own fingerprints. This isn’t a bad thing – it means that every person can teach something to every other person, that it’s completely impossible for anyone to know everything. It’s the responsibility that we each have to get to know each other.
In the time since I first read Barthe, I’ve realized that being a mythologist is a damn lot of work. It takes constant vigilance (to borrow a phrase from J.K. Rowling), not just to examine what you’re told, but also to keep your skepticism from evolving into negativity. It takes more self-awareness than I’ll probably ever have, and the ability to Listen. The Baha’I Writings give the following advice on seeking Truth:

“The state in which one should be to seriously search for the truth is the condition of the thirsty, burning soul desiring the water of life, of the fish struggling to reach the sea, of the sufferer seeking for the true doctor to obtain the divine cure, of the lost caravan endeavoring to find the right road, of the lost and wandering ship striving to reach the shore of salvation.” – Abdul-Baha

More than anything those words make me realize that reflection, in its true form, isn’t a hobby. It isn’t a pastime or something you can do casually. It’s a way of life that informs everything you do, it’s a questioning spirit and the ability to weave your own story. This can be disconcerting, save the recognition there’s not one grand answer to discover. Each answer is just the open door to the next question, and each question is its own guidance to the next answer.

Unreasonably distraught

2005-07-17T00:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was on top of the world - I picked up my highly anticipated copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and rushed home to start reading. And I read and I read. Then the book started upsetting me and I called Nikki for emotional support. Then I read some more.

EJHKA HIJESND AJIELOFMODHRD . . .

I just used a secret code to tell you what happens in the book. I then burned the magical talisman that contained the primer for the code, so I didn't give anything away. But I really had to tell someone, and my three Harry Potter fanatics are sort of indisposed:

1. Nikki is still reading because she spent the day helping people instead of reading. Meanie.
2. It's like 4am in NY where Krissa lives.
3. Alia is in China.

So here I am, alone and distraught, writing on my blog at 3am without even being able to say why I'm so upset. J. K. Rowling is amazing. The books are epic, magificent, and the most easily accessible form of myth that I've ever come across. But they make me very upset.

I think I'll go wake Matt up and see if he lets me tell him what happens.

Constant Vigilance!

2005-07-15T09:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, people. I'm flipping out. TWELVE HOURS. The final countdown begins. Cannot. . .contain . . .excitement . . .AAAAAHHHHHH!!

Politically Incorrect Ranting

2005-07-11T23:36:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing: the fact that parents let their eight-year-old kids play whatever video games they can buy at Wal-Mart really bothers me. The only way any child of mine will get a portable gaming device is if they have some rare disease that requires 24-hour television contact for survival. The fact that nine year olds get online and play video games with adults - adults who swear at each other and make totally smutty comments - is awful. I would love to have a job where I got to take gameboys away from little boys and could then force them to read books.

However, I have no kids, and people get mad when I make children cry. I'm just trying to get to my first point:

1. It is a parent's job to monitor a kid's video games, a kid's computer use, etc. And make no mistake, a lot of parents have their heads stuck in the sand on this one.

Now I move to my second point: I am a firm believer in free speech. I consider video games a viable form of artistic expression, and the people who make them should be able to create whatever they want. Free speech doesn't just mean letting people do things you agree with. I don't see the need for games re-enacting World War II, and you'd better believe no money of mine will ever go to a game like that, but people have the right to make them. So point two is:

2. Video game creators should have free reign to create.

HOWEVER. However, if it turns out to be true that the creators of Grand Theft Auto actually put that porn in the game and deliberately hid it, just so that the game wouldn't be rated "Adults Only" (and consequently not be sold at about half of all video game retailers) I will hunt them down, tie them up, and force them to watch man on man midget pornography for the next twenty years. Oh, does that sound cruel and unusual? Too bad. I'm livid and it makes me unconstitutional. Parents are having enough time figuring out what's going on with their kids without you deliberately hiding adult content in a game. Yes, you have the right to create it and put it in a game. But you do NOT have the right to hide content so that you can lie about how graphic the game is and thereby get more sales from minors.

I read a comment online from some gamer, most likely a single guy in his twenties, which basically said that parents should just watch their kids better and that this is just another example of people taking potshots at the gaming industry. Hear me now anonymous commenter: you are a moron and you need to go get a vasectomy so that you don't breed. Regardless of how aware a parent is, a game developer has NO RIGHT to secretly and knowingly peddle smut to kids. If they created a game with porn in it, which they knew would be found, and which they reasonably expected would be seen by the minors who owned the game, and then deliberately hid that porn so that KIDS WOULD BE ABLE TO BUY THE GAME, that is NOT people taking shots at the gaming industry. That's a couple of perverts ruining it for everyone bc they don’t' have girlfriends.

In the real world, do you know what we call it when an adult secretly makes stuff like this available to kids, in a way that parents might not notice? We call that perverted. And the fact that this seems to have been done for money - for money that could be made from the under-18 market - is disgusting.

*Deep breath* I know I'm getting a little ahead of myself, because we don't really know whether or not the developers put the porn content in the game. And again, they have every right to - they just don't have the right to pretend it isn't there so that they can sell it to kids. This degrades all of the other members of the industry, and will probably create a lot of backlash against video games. I hope that Microsoft sues you when they don't sell enough XBOX 360's because you made people afraid of video games.

And of course, after that, there'll still be the midget porn. I'll find you.

4 years, 129 days

2005-07-07T22:37:00.000-07:00

In two days my little brother, also known as Matthew G. or Quick-pix McDone, moves to Austin.

When I was about fourteen I started to notice how often people would ask me the same question: “How many years apart and you and your brother?” I would tell people that we were about four years apart, or really more like four and a half, and yes, we get along just fine. They would nod while they listened and act as though that information was important.

When I was sixteen I spent two weeks at the beach with my Mom, my brother, my grandparents, and extended family on my Mom’s side. My brother sort of drove me crazy the whole time because he’d stay up all night playing with his Gameboy and then sleep all day, leaving me alone to cope with the madness. But at some point during the trip my Aunt asked me basically that same question: how close in age are you and your brother.

I gave my standard answer and then asked why she was interested. “You know,” she said, “one of my brothers and I are really good friends, much closer than the rest of my brothers and sisters. I see sort of the same relationship between you and your brother. Everyone doesn’t have that, you know. It’s special; I hope my girls are like that as they get older.”

I found this information sort of surprising. Of course we get along, he’s my brother, why wouldn’t we? But as I got older I realized that what we have is pretty rare. Even those people I know who say they get along with their siblings will say that they don’t really hang out, or that they wouldn’t hang out that much if they lived in the same city. And for every person who gets along with their brother or sister, there’s another person who doesn’t.

Truth be told, my brother is a pretty easy person to get along with. We’re shockingly alike in a lot of ways: we’re great at telling stories but terrible at telling jokes, we’re both sort of obsessive-compulsive, we like talking to strangers, and if you order us to do something we’ll do the exact opposite. We’re also very different, most notably in the way that he’s more accommodating, and much nicer, that I am, a fact which I find both admirable and frustrating – admirable when he’s driving from one city to another to help a friend, frustrating when he’s talking to cell phone salesmen at the mall to be polite.

I know why people ask about our ages: because they want to know the chances for their own kids. They want to know whether they’ll end up with a couple of teenagers who hate each other, with adults who live in different cities and send yearly Christmas cards, or with sibling who’ll be friends. But by now I’ve met enough brother and sisters who are four and a half years apart to know that’s not really what makes it work. Some people are just lucky.

But just in case, I broke out a calculator to do the math. If anyone was curious, my brother and I are exactly 4 years and 129 days apart. Maybe there’s some mysterious energy about that age difference that dictates what kind of relationship siblings will have, and it’s what made it possible for my brother and I to be such good friends.

Or maybe we’re just lucky.

Ritual Dances

2005-07-07T11:01:00.000-07:00

(Let it be known to all, or at least to B.C.G., that I'm writing this on my lunch break - not during worktime.)

Two nights ago Matt, Nikki and I were desperately waiting for our overdue pizza delivery when we heard a knock at the door. The nice but somewhat flustered-looking pizza girl handed us our food and then sort of stared at me like a deer in the headlights. We had paid over the phone with a credit card so I figured that, like Papa John's, this particular pizza company took a carbon copy of the credit card used for payment.

"So", I asked, "Do you want to do the rubbing of the card?"

At this point the delivery girl looked confused and Matt and Nikki started giggling. "I think I left your receipt downstairs," said the girl, looking longingly at the two-dollar tip I was clutching in my hand, "I'll go back down and get it."

As she left to get my receipt Matt and Nikki pointed out two things:
1. I was mean for making her go all the way back downstairs for my receipt.
2. The "rubbing of the card" sounds like some sort of strange ritual dance, which Matt demonstrated by doing this weird rapper's-girlfriend imitation while rubbing an imaginary credit card over his chest.

As it turns out, she did not need to perform the Rubbing of the Card, and I was more than happy to give her the tip in exchange for my receipt. I got my comeuppance the next day, when the ball from Nikki's mouse fell out while I carried her computer equipment upstairs, and bounced all the way down the hilly driveway, forcing me to trudge all the way back downstairs to retrieve it.

It's not easy being green

2005-07-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

Yay for the new template! Although I do heart pink, I somehow managed to screw up my blog so I figured it was time for a change anyway. And since every blade of grass in Texas is now dead from the heat and the highway is lined by a brown median of ugly dead grass, I figured I could use some green. Plus, you know, I like money.

Remind me why I didn't move to Chicago . . .

2005-07-01T20:02:00.000-07:00

For approximately eight hours today, the temperature was about 103 degrees. That's sans heat index. And when it gets that hot for that long, even those people lucky enough to have brand new A/C systems probably aren't able to get that cool. But they would come home to about 72 degrees and hear their A/C say something like "Hey guys! Look, I'm really sorry that I can't get it down to 70 degrees like you want. I'm really doing the best I can, so I hope you'll forgive me."

Unfortunately, Matt and I are not among those lucky people (not in the A/C sense, anyway.) So we come home to something like this: "Yeah, I know what you're thinkin' - it's not 70 degrees in here. Feels more like seventy-five, right? Well too bad. I've been working double shifts all week and if you think I'm gonna crank out a chilling breeze then you must be crazy. You'll get lukewarm and you'll like it. I can send you right back outside you know - it may be dark but it's still like 95 out there. You want a piece of me?"

So at this point Matt and Neville have fallen asleep on the floor, and I'm forced to try and keep cool vis-a-vis my Rachelsita:

Rachelsita the Sumo Wrestler fan was named after Amyesita the Sumo Wrestler Fan. He's plastic and takes four double-A batteries, but it's totally worth it.

Wow . . .wow . . .

2005-06-27T23:17:00.000-07:00

I just noticed that on one of the sleazy late-night law firm commercials there's the following fine print at the bottom of the screen:

"Actors portraying clients are portrayed as clients".

Those are definately the lawyers I want drafting my contracts.

Who's scruffy-lookin'?

2005-06-27T22:51:00.000-07:00

Lately, every conversation Nikki and I have ends up spiraling downward into why we hate Tom Cruise. It’s pretty amazing how it all leads back to that. His antics have been a sad experience for some; many people my age say he was their first celebrity crush when they were teens or pre-teens.

Being somewhat dorkier that most, I was never too interested in Tom Cruise. My first love was much more manly, looked great driving the Millenium Falcon, and could (and probably still can) stop the hearts of women everywhere when he tipped his Indiana Jones hat. I’m talking, of course, about the ever-sexy Harrison Ford.

(Okay, maybe “ever-sexy” is an exaggeration. I’m willing to overlook that stupid airplane movie with Anne Heche, but the earring kind of bugs me. Harrison, please, we get that you’re still hip – just take the earring out.)

I can remember being about twelve, watching the scene in Empire Strikes Back where Han kisses Leia (“Stop that – my hands are dirty”), and thinking “Wow. I needs to git me man like that”. Han was so confident and kind of cocky, and yet so sweet when he fell in love with Leia. He seemed like the absolute perfect man.

*Swoon.

There’s something about the Brad-Pitt-like, pretty boy male celebrities that just doesn’t do it for me. I think it has to do with the shaved chests: any man that would shave his chest hair and then grease himself up is just a little boy playing dress up in daddy’s clothes. (Obviously, I make an exception here for the Extremely Hairy. If you have an actual carpet on any part of your body, then the hair removal is acceptable.) All of the male celebrities that I see little girls eyeing (Ashton Kutcher, Brad Pitt, Justin Timberlake) seem more like overgrown boys than men. If I’m going to spend time ogling someone onscreen, they need to have some depth. They need to have a few wrinkles around the eyes, they need to have stubble that isn’t perfectly groomed and deliberate. And they can’t have little girly arms.

Another celebrity man that I find super-hot is Pierce Brosnan. Rowr. That’s a man with some depth, some chest hair, and a terrific accent.

Buried somewhere in this drivel is a call to the men of the world. I’ve noticed that a lot of you lack confidence – you seem confused about how to approach women, and spend a lot of time grooming yourselves. But none of this will do any good if you aren’t confident. A character in the South Park movie (who shall remain unnamed to preserve whatever shred of tact I have left) put it very well: “Chicks dig confidence. Just be yourself”.

Oh, and, um . . .don’t ask a girl on a date to a fast food restaurant. Ever.

Shall I share too much information?

2005-06-23T23:45:00.000-07:00

In case anyone was interested, I'm pretty much just finishing up one of the busiest, most frustrating weeks I've ever had at work. I love my job, but when I get a project that is long, complicated, and really really nit-picky, I start to go a little insane. Poor Nikki has been swamped too. I think we'd been dealing with the stress pretty well until this week, when we realized that our "great idea" of taking our "woman pill" at the same time so we could help each other remember had a side effect: the resetting of womanly cycles so that they occur simultaneously. (I'm trying not to be too tacky here, but this is the best I can do. And I'm kind of a tacky person, as evidenced by Pinky the laptop bag). Anyway, today we discovered all kinds of fun problems involving the office's electrical system, and by about 3:00pm my hormones were going crazy and I had already threatened to cry at least four times. I'm making it sound really depressing, but it was actually kind of funny. (Well, it probably wasn't funny for Brian. He was probably hiding in the back room, wringing his hands and wondering what he'd done to deserve such crazy employees.)

I'm not going to complain about other frustrating things that happened, but I'll say this: IF THOU DOST TELL ME TO ARRIVE BY SIX IN ORDER TO SEE YOU, DO NOT LEAVE AT 5:30. I SHALL SEND THEE TO THE GALLOWS.

In other news, after a long and involved apartment search Matt and I decided to just stay where we are for now. We rearranged our bedroom as sort of a consolation prize, which was fun because I love arranging furniture.

We also went to Home Depo this week, a trip that secured my place in the Moron Hall of Fame. My finest moment went something like this:

R: Wow - look! I didn't know they sold tractors here!
M: Honey, those are just riding mowers.

And in case anyone was wondering, riding mowers do NOT having horns, but they should. Safety first, right?

You should feel shame if the panda part offends you . . .

2005-06-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

The American media is becoming more and more like a Fellini movie. A few minutes ago I saw Geraldo Rivera, that fountain of wisdom, saying that Court TV’s coverage of the Michael Jackson verdict was sensational and unprofessional. “Hmmm . . . .” I thought to myself, “Didn’t Geraldo get kicked out of Iraq for accidentally broadcasting sensitive information?” So that’s okay then. (Not that I don’t think Court TV is sensational and unprofessional). And what’s with that mustache, Geraldo? Are you auditioning for the new Super Mario Brothers movie?

In addition, did you know that E! has been showing re-enactments of the trial every day?? I didn’t. That means there’s some lame actor who gets to put on his resume that he played Michael Jackson for four months. Weird.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought that the news was supposed to be insightful. I must have that wrong. You can throw an elephant at the news for weeks without hitting anything that’s not worthless drivel. (NPR, my dearest – you know that I don’t include you in this rant. I’m yours forever.)

I’m especially annoyed with all of the celebrity oriented news. And why do we ask celebrities questions about the lives of other celebrities? How relevant is Nicole Kidman’s opinion on whether Michael Jackson can salvage his career?

Here are Nine most annoying things I’ve been seeing too much of on the news:

9. Russell Crowe. So he threw a phone. Meh. *Shrugs* Naomi Campbell did that like ten years ago.
8. Brad Pitt’s alleged affair with Angelina Jolie. This would have ranked higher, but they’re so pretty that it mitigates the nonsense. Plus, you know, they’re trying to helping kids.
7. All of this Tom Delay mumbo jumbo. Just kick his ass to the curb and stop wasting tax dollars and American brain cells. Tom Delay is becoming like the bad boyfriend who beats you, but you just keep going back. And I’m the friend who’s fed up with you going back to him over and over again. Come ON, people. How many times does he have to throw us down the stairs before we break up with him?
6. My enduring disgust for Paris Hilton had waned, but now I find that she’s engaged to a man who’s also named Paris. That is ridiculous. I decree that spoiled children of privilege must have a new name, and I declare that name to be Minneapolis. We don’t need more Paris’s.
5. Partisanism.
4. Media coverage on the media.
3. Obviously, the Michael Jackson verdict. But specifically, the headlines announcing the verdict via a play on one of his songs (Examples: “He ‘beat it’”, “Free Man in the Mirror”)
2. If I see Tom Cruise jumping up and down like a four year old again, I swear I will vomit. WHY ARE THE TWO OF YOU TORTURING US WITH YOUR LUDICROUS AND DISTURBING RELATIONSHIP? I refuse to refer to this by the kvetchy media name. Just make you damn movies and go home. Find a girlfriend who’s not a giraffe, stop trying to convince me that Scientology isn’t weird, and STOP JUMPING UP AND DOWN LIKE A FOUR YEAR OLD.
1. Anything involving efforts to impregnate pandas. If they’re that reticent about having panda sex, maybe they’re supposed to go extinct.

Paradise Somethinged

2005-06-13T00:17:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite teachers from undergrad was an English professor who taught a class on Milton. Even if I hadn’t liked Professor L and his class so much, I think he still would have been one of my most memorable professors. The semester after I took Professor L’s class he went on the lamb amidst varying and sensational rumors, and I think that now it would be fair to upgrade his status from “memorable” to “infamous”.

It was obvious that he was restless with being a professor. He definitely loved teaching, and was one of those people who had a gift for communication, but an increasingly massive set of administrative nonsense made it hard for him to breathe. One day Professor L made us laugh by telling us about an old friend of his, a bipolar but tenured history professor who used to throw rocks through the windows of the Liberal Arts Dean’s Office when he was annoyed with the university. He finished the story after our laughter had died down, by reminiscing about some of his old friend’s other quirks. Later he told us that the reason that particular professor no longer taught was due to an untimely and self-induced death, from a bullet to the head.

It was easy to see coincidences in the story of the history professor and in Professor L’s own life. Beyond Professor L’s disdain for the administration, one got small peeks into the reality that he was hindered by his own disease. Even before the semester when he failed to turn up for his classes people might have noticed, if they paid attention, that he was almost never without his plaid, innocuous looking coffee flask – even when it seemed unlikely that he’d be drinking coffee. And his students probably raised their eyebrows at the more-than-occasional cancelled class, given without real explanation.

One afternoon I saw Professor L. walking down the street near the university, carrying nothing but his plaid flask and a newspaper. He was wearing nondescript jeans that weren’t large enough to distract from his skinny legs and a striped, baggy t-shirt. The clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. His white hair, as always, was slicked back, and his goatee was scraggly. It occurred to me that if I didn’t know who he was, I might think he was homeless. He was – and still is, I’m sure – the type of person who’s casually described as a “character”, whose antics are recounted with amusement. But the antics were more than worth it if you got the chance to hear him teach.

I’d been a lover of English poetry for years when I took Professor L’s class, and had spent probably more time than can be considered healthy reading John Donne aloud to savor the rhythm of the words, or researching the compositions dates on Tennyson’s poems. But Professor L’s class opened the door of history through the amazing structural intricacies that Milton used to compose his works. Above all I realized that I could never truly appreciate Milton, nor could anyone else, that Milton was trapped by the peculiarities of time and circumstance. Or, maybe, that we were trapped. I can read English poetry with joy and “understand” it, even learn from it. And, now, I can delve deeper by examining the structure of the poetry and what that helps it to say. But I’ll never be able to read Lycidas and implicitly feel the urgency of a particular verse because of the fact that is has less syllables. I’ll never naturally understand that a verse is meant to impart strength because it has three lines instead of two.

There was a time when the Western world was ruled by theology and faith. Obviously, this had some setbacks, like bleeding people with leeches. But the horror of the superstition was almost matched by the beautiful interconnectedness of the imagined universe. Now we can analyze and scientifically explain, but the sense of connection is lost to society. Now we feel more disconnected than ever. I remember one class Professor L spoke about being disconnected as a society, and leaned forward to stare. “You think you really know anybody?” The room was silent, and the electricity of it made me shiver. The void between each person in the room felt like limitless space, dark and unpassable. And as much as I wanted to say yes, we can truly know each other, I understood what he meant. In the vastness of life we barely know ourselves, so knowing another person is like stumbling blindly around a huge, darkened building. The terror of being so vulnerable can be enough to stop your efforts, and even when you resolve to try you still have to fight the size and the darkness, with no guarantee that anyone will turn on the lights.

Milton himself knew something about darkness, and about faith. In about 1640, Milton felt ready to write the work of his life. But against the backdrop of political upheaval, Milton was asked by Cromwell to be an official pamphleteer for the Puritan government. Milton felt divided, and was aware that he couldn’t write his masterpiece and adequately support his political philosophy at the same time. He put poetry on hold and became a pamphleteer.

Writing of that kind was hard work. By 1651 the long hours by candelight had taken their toll, and Milton had become completely blind. Nine years later the monarchy was reinstated and Milton, now an enemy of the government, was arrested and eventually impoverished. While living off a friend’s charity in a small room, blind and poor, Milton took up his pen and began his masterpiece, Paradise Lost, the work that would come to define the modern view of Christian theology.

Professor L had the ability to make all of that real, to cross the void into Milton’s time and show his students the hidden corners of history and the unrecognized genius in Milton’s works. He recreated the world of interconnectedness, even though his reality was very different. Like Donne, he seemed to be straddling the divide between faith and rationalism, between isolation and understanding.

For awhile after Professor L stopped teaching, the university still had him classified as a member of the faculty. Now he seems to be erased from memory; no matter how many ways I tried to google his name, all I could find were old, brief documents that listed his name along with dozens of other UT professors. For all of the impact he made on the dozens of students who fought to take his class, he’s now so far away that even the internet can’t find him.

Sometimes isolation goes beyond having nothing to do on a Friday night. For some, it can be the crushing reality of being a single person, living in a particular place, during a time when the most people hope for in terms of connection is for someone to love them “for who they are”. For some isolation is the reality of human existence. I can empathize with feeling adrift in that vast space, but I can also say that I’ve had experiences that transcended the physical constructs that keep us isolated. Far from hard to reconcile, this is just the reality of being a spiritual being living in a physical world. I think the connections that seem to elusive are more tangible that we realize, and the fact that they’re hard to grasp is a reason to work hard, not a reason to despair. I hope that, no matter what Professor L is doing, he’s found a way through the sadness in his life. I hope he realizes that, no matter how trapped he may be just by virtue of who he is, there’s probably some student that he doesn’t even remember who’s looking him up on the internet, or flipping through old notes from class while cleaning out a closet, or looking up at the night sky and remembering Milton:

“When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime,

Then all this Earthy grosnes quit,

Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.”

It don't matter if you're black or white . . .

2005-06-10T19:55:00.000-07:00

The rest of the pictures from the wedding can be viewed here.

Testing . . .Can I post Pictures??

2005-06-07T20:23:00.000-07:00