Cuteness Overload

The San Diego Zoo's newest panda cub has finally emerged from her den. I watched Zhen Zhen as she rolled around the yard looking adorable for quite awhile this morning, despite the fact that whoever is controlling the PandaCam is hopped up on what seems to be a dangerous combination of caffeine, crack and a bad cinematography class in college.

Counting Isn't So Hard, Is It?

To add to the chorus that's talking about law prom... well, I'll sort of add to it. I drank and ate and actually made a bit of money at Texas Hold 'Em without surrendering to my massive competitive streak and losing my temper. Also, I talked to people who I don't always get to talk to and had a hot date that sat by me as I bored her with the rules of poker.

But alas, there was a taint to the evening (and I'm not talking about T&E grades) - we went to the massively crowded Texas Roadhouse before the party. I was the first to arrive and promptly signed the 6 of us up for the hour-long waiting list. The others arrived and we chatted for said hour. Said hour goes by and the crowd is thinning. People are going past us (in groups that are just as large or larger) that came in after us. We send one of the boys to check on the wait time.

Answer - "Um, I don't know. Let me check."

Cue the riffling through pages and pages of names, standing around looking confused and, let us not forget, the dismissal of unhappy customers in order to joke around and laugh behind the counter instead. Finally they tell us that we could be seated separately in 2 adjoining booths. Because, you know, it's become so difficult to push 2 tables together these days.

Whatever. We're cranky and our blood sugar is low. We'll take what we can get. But 10 minutes later, when they STILL haven't seated us, I'm shaking and about to let loose a tirade. They must have felt the evil, angry gale approach because they finally called us as I came up to the counter.

We ask if we could possibly get just one table (because it never hurts to ask, right? WRONG.) Now we're surrounded by the entire cadre of managers, asking us in a rather condescending tone if there's a problem.

After explaining EXACTLY what they've done to us (and receiving nothing but a "Well, it's an hour wait for a single table for 6", despite the fact that that was what we HAD BEEN WAITING FOR), we sit down to 2 booths anyway. Luckily for them, they placed bread right in front of us so that we could sate the savage beast of starvation that was gnawing at us.

On the plus side, our waitress was terrified of us and made sure we had everything we ever wanted, short of a winning lottery ticket. (No, we did not take out the hostesses' idiocy/managers' rudeness on her. It was just nice to get actual service.)

On the con side, I don't know if I can go there again, which whittles the number of decent restaurants in this town down to about 3. *Sigh*

But the rest of the evening was lovely. Gracias, SBA.

MP3 ESP

So Ike Turner croaked, which is weird because the JUST other day my iTunes decided to play Tina Turner's "I Can't Stand the Rain" from the fantastic Private Dancer album and I thought, "Wow, she's really talented. Ike kind of deserves to go to hell for what he did to her."

And now he has.

Oh, calm down. I'm just kidding (maybe). But you can surely tell how concerned I am about the effect his exit from the world will have. I have to say though, that I love that People.com notes Ike and Tina's relationship as "tempestuous", when I would have said something like, "He beat the crap out of her constantly." I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead but a) even my description is mild, b) "not speaking ill" doesn't mean lying and c) the whole point of that rule is because the dead can't defend themselves, and like Ike would have given a hoot what I think or say.

Anyway, I feel for his family, but that's about as far as my sympathy goes.

Free the Rice!... Oh, Free Rice

FreeRice is surprisingly fun, and apparently does in fact send free rice to countries that are so desperate for food. It donates no matter what level you're on, but you can always improve your vocabulary,right? I got up to level 42, but I usually hover around 39. I know some of you out there are smarter than me - so prove it!

Shopping Becomes Depressing

Even if you don't know me very well, you still probably know that I'm not the biggest fan of children. I have 3 younger cousins (no siblings) but we were all born within a few years of each other and so I had none of that "here, watch your cousin for the evening while I talk to your uncle for 4 hours" experience. (My mother did - she mutters that there wasn't a family gathering that she didn't get spit up on at least once. She wanted to start wearing a tarp but my grandmother wouldn't allow it.) I also worked in retail, which is as close to an effective abstinence education program as we have in this nation. Watching your children is not the fitting room attendant's job, people. (That said, I have great respect for parents who actually teach their children to be well-behaved and quiet - I guess I'm kind of old school with the "seen and not heard" bit, which has been lost on many parents these days.)

But even if they were raving little terrors (they're not), there are 4 children I love unconditionally and will even let them put their sticky fingers on my nice clothing - Caitlin, Matthew, Jessica and Olivia. They're my nieces and nephew and they're wonderful. I love being "Aunt Sarah". I know, it surprises me too.

But - getting to my point, finally - I also have to get them Christmas gifts and I'm starting to worry. As I wander through the children's section of the bookstore, dodging perilous sticky fingers and snotty noses all the way, I have to wonder where all the decent authors went. Is there some 15 year long luau in the South Pacific that I missed? Surely - surely! - we can do better than "Do Unto Otters: A Book About Manners", which was chosen as Amazon's best picture book for 2007! Or "Psst!", which aside from its questionable name has drawings that look like they came straight out of MAD magazine. I am completely freaked out.

Perhaps my mother and all of my family and family friends were just fortuitous or educated shoppers in my youth, but I had huge amounts of fantastic picture books. Usually they had gorgeous artwork and if they didn't, they always had a great story. And while I'm aware that some of them - "Goodnight Moon" and "Where the Wild Things Are", for example - are much older than I am and were culled from the sea of mediocrity, I would have thought some talent remained. But it seems that the greats of my youth are fading away, either into retirement or into tedium. 1986's "The Stranger" was the last good book that Chris Van Allsburg did, for example. It was so fantastic, maybe he just didn't have any more left in him.

*Sigh* Perhaps I'm being too cynical. Perhaps I should just lower myself to get Dora the Explorer books and even venture into movies and toys - although Lord knows they don't need any more of that. Perhaps I'm still not over the questionable quality of the 7th Harry Potter book. I don't know. I do know that I'm glad that my parents kept my old picture books and that I've already given copies of all those classics to my nieces and nephew - it's old genius, but it still works for now.

Avert Your Eyes

I awoke this morning and did my usual routine while listening to the painters outside spray-painting the side of my building. They've been at this for a couple weeks and frankly, I'm quite sick of them. I know I'm being unfair, but when I'm going to my dryer to get a clean t-shirt after my shower, I don't like to turn around and see the painters looking at me over my 7 foot tall privacy fence. Did I mention it was right after my shower? It was like I had stepped into a Ben Stiller movie and that's not a very fun place to be.

Anyway, they're painting what was normal, neutral-colored brick with this weird tri-color scheme in an attempt (I'm guessing) to look fresh and "with it". Most of the buildings have a cream top, a white stripe in the middle and green bottom. And yet I walked outside this morning to find my own building's walls a delightful shade of vomit.

VOMIT. Seriously, it looks like what my dog regularly throws up when he's eaten too many bits of disgusting trash off of the sidewalk. I'm hoping that this is just the base coat, but it cannot be gone soon enough. (Although even as I type this, they're hovering outside my window, painting more vomit on the walls. I'm dressed this time though.)

I know they're trying to update the place with the new owners and all, but it's like my apartment complex is having a mid-life crisis. And I'm the kid, embarrassed at the things that it's doing to itself in order to look cool and young again. Couldn't it just have bought a red sports car and gotten a 19 year old secretary to prance around in a miniskirt and do other, non-family-oriented things?

Escapism

Ah, the days after Thanksgiving - when everyone pretends they didn't know Christmas was coming for the last 11 months and they freak out, flocking to the malls. Mass consumerism is the essence of this time of year. That and something about the birth of some child or other?

But most importantly, holiday movies. It's hard to wade through the dreck that comes out each year, so I'll tell you what this humble blogger wants to see (i.e. what I believe will be worth the time).

1. The Golden Compass

I've wanted to see this movie since before I knew there was a movie being made. The Golden Compass is the first of a trilogy of books by Phillip Pullman and, precious few novels aside, is one of the most deeply complex and compelling books I've ever read along with its sequels. Seriously. If you haven't read the trilogy (dubbed altogether as the "His Dark Materials" trilogy), you are missing out on genius. It's like Harry Potter, only more engrossing, better written and has a touch of reality that you can feel, despite witches and talking bears and souls that live outside the body. It's more like the Chronicles of Narnia than anything else, now that I think about it. It's so fantastic that I won't ruin any of it for you.

Anyway, the point is that if they mess this movie up, I will literally cry. And I don't cry.

2. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Not one for the kids, folks, if the title hadn't already tipped you off. Yes, it's a musical (it might be worth the price just to see Johnny Depp singing), but when did that stop Sweet Charity from being depressing as hell? Or Les Miserables? Or lots of others that I can't think of at the moment? Well, take all that depressing stuff from those musicals altogether and go about twenty yards farther and then down into a big black hole of murder and despair. Most full-blown operas don't have this much death and destruction.

But it has Johnny Depp and Alan Rickman (as the bad guy... err, the badder bad guy) and it's directed by Tim Burton. And it's about a demon barber with an old-time straight edge razor. What more could you ask for at Christmas?

3. I Am Legend

Unlike the above two movies, I don't know more than what they've told me in trailers about this one. But apparently there are zombies. And not the zombies that turn what was a horror flick into pure gore (surely you can see the difference?) but more like Shaun of the Dead zombies - tasteful. (Perhaps that's the wrong word...)

Also, Will Smith is in it and I'm just not tired of his one character - the charming, grimly funny hero - yet. I'm not tired of Harrison Ford's rugged smart-ass character either, so this shouldn't be surprising.

Three movies is actually quite low for my typical holiday movie season. It seems the writers' strike is working retroactively (Alien v. Predator: Requiem??? Are you kidding me?) but I can struggle through. For now the time being though, it's back to the grind.

Sleep and Stuffing

Thanksgiving is usually such a trying time for me. Usually, family descends upon Dallas 9 times out of 10, making my mother a nervous wreck while I get increasingly lackadaisical. ("Who cares that the curtain aren't clean, Mom? She's your mother - she knows what a terrible housekeeper you are... Why are you looking at me like that? What do you MEAN I have to vacuum the entire house???") But this year, not even my in-laws will be in town, which is fan-dabby-tabulous in my opinion. Not that I don't love them... I just don't like being around them when there's food involved. It's like I'm being fattened up to go to slaughter. Truly. But I suppose that's what I get for marrying into a restaurant family.

Usually, I'm fretting about shopping for eleventy billion people in the space of 3 weeks (I need to ship things to my far-flung relatives). But as of last year, I decided that the best gift is a gift that goes away and doesn't clutter up the shelves, i.e. food. There are a lot of great catalogs full of stuff that my aunts will call me up to complain about because they were just SO good but SO bad for them. This is a sign of success, my friends.

And usually, I'm gearing up for exams. Except I'm on the quarter system now and this time I'm not even fretting too much about my last round of tests.

All in all, it's going to be a good holiday for me. I hope it is for you too.

Oh, I do know one thing I'm going to get:

A new puppy bed.

Grizzly Bear? Brown Bear? AK-47 Bear?

Cash Advance Loans

Prof. Osler has linked us to a site which tests the readability of a blog. This blog scored a decent "high school" level. I thought it amusing considering that today in our first Con Law class (in which I sit front row, section I'm-Going-to-Get-Picked-On-A-Lot-Aren't-I?), I could not stop giggling for about 5 solid minutes.

Really, was I the only one in a class of some 100-odd people that had that bit from Family Guy running through their heads about the 2nd Amendment? -

"Do you think the language in the Second Amendment is clear enough? You know, about the right to bear arms?"
"Of course it's clear. Every American has the right to hang a pair of bear arms on their wall. How can that possibly be misconstrued?"

... Well, I thought it was funny. I'm going to go run it through again to see if this post lowered me down to "Pre-K" level.

Como Se Dice, "Important Fact"?

My mother called me today, just as I was fighting the urge to put down my Negotiable Instruments outline and pick up my Wii controller. She was coming back from the court house and jury duty. She had called to complain to me about how boring the process was and how much she disliked the lawyers for both sides. I asked (half-jokingly) if they were Baylor lawyers, and she said, "I don't know. But when they told us who the lawyers had picked, one of them stood up and started talking to the judge. I had to lean over and ask the woman next to me what the man was saying. She said that he was telling the judge that he couldn't understand much English. None of the lawyers had asked that. Don't you think that's an important thing to ask?"

So I'm guessing no, they weren't Baylor lawyers.

Exam Week Begins

I always take a little bit to recover from an exam, especially one that lasts 4 hours and that has questions ranging from "Charlie could have taken this for me" to "I want my mommy". I know it's meant to keep us on our toes and it damn sure worked. On the whole though, I didn't leave the exam cursing at anyone, not even myself, so that's a success in my mind.

Still, exam week is tortuous and when you've plunged into it, it's hard to keep yourself going at full steam for that entire time (as evidenced by the fact that I'm writing this post instead of finishing my Negotiable Instruments outline). I find myself thinking about what I plan to do when I'm done, which gives me hope but also threatens to distract me entirely. And there's always the dreaded pit of despair when you just stop caring.

All this is very hard to explain to non-law school people. They often think of law school exams as akin to what they remember from undergrad. I remember undergrad too and except for classes like Neuro-psychology (which was also available to bio majors, which all slept during class as the psych majors like me sweated over which each neurotransmitter did and why and how and what dopamine's favorite color was and why it was in a fight with serotonin over the affections of acetylcholine and was glycine the love child of epinephrine??? Answers next week on "As the Brain Turns"), it was all otherwise as easy as pie.

On the other hand, other law school people should know exactly how horrible this week is, and - this is where I'm going to get preachy - should stay quiet in the freaking hallways and not shout about how you want candy and how you ALWAYS forget your ethernet cord when there is obviously an open door in front of you with 60 people taking an exam! We saw you look at us. Why did you keep talking, girl-who-shall-remain-nameless-BUT-I-KNOW-WHO-YOU-ARE???

That wasn't the intended point of this post, but there it is. See, GWSRNBIKWYA? You didn't just distract me from my exam, you distracted me from my entire point!

... Oh yes. Pace yourself. And stay calm. And remember that it'll all be over soon. *Deep breath*

Strawberries and David Bowie References

I had such a horrible night last night. I had a headache, my outlines were going as well as Larry Craig's appeals and Jon called in the middle of "House" to tell me that his class ended early, forcing me to miss the second half of the one hour of the day I had to myself and my own enjoyment. I was not pleased. But I feel slightly better about today for a few reasons:

1) Charlie was a strawberry for Halloween and specifically, my apartment complex's pet costume contest. He lost, but whatever. I half-heartedly aimed to win by going to Petsmart and buying a costume yesterday. He whole-heartedly wanted to sniff all the other dogs' private areas. One of us got our wish and that's enough for me.



2) A new Zero Punctuation review (see my post below).

3) "The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of NiggyTardust!" comes out tonight at midnight. You can either get it free or pay $5, here. I'm not going to lie - it's not my cup of tea. It's kind of dance/hip-hop/rap. Few genres can get so far from my own musical tastes, although it's interesting and worth a listen, and I must admit it's growing on me.

"So why are you promoting it on your limited-audience but irritatingly vocal blog, Yee?" Because it's produced by Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails. But contrary to what some of you might be thinking, that fact in and of itself is not enough for me to endorse music that I don't care for. Trent Reznor got Marilyn Manson his first big break, but I'd never tell you to go out and buy "Antichrist Superstar". I know that a lot of NIN fans are also devout in their following of someone I think of as the second creepiest person alive (after Michael Jackson), but I'm not one of them.*

But I digress. The reason I am telling you to go and at least listen to "NiggyTardust" is because record labels are dying. File-sharing is not going to go away and the labels are doing all they can to encourage it by doing foolish things like charging $35 in Australia for a NIN CD.** Radiohead already has offered their latest CD for "whatever the consumer wants to pay for it", whether it be $1 or $40. "NiggyTardust" is doing the same thing and will probably get a lot more recognition when it's not suffering under the thumb of a label. This is only the beginning of the trend. The recording industry can't stop it. I don't think that's a bad thing. Using something as expansive as the internet for a marketing playground will churn out a lot of crap music. But how is that different from record labels these days? (Have you heard the Britney Spears album? Heaven help our ears.) But it'll also produce a lot of ingenuity that would never have been heard if it had been up to a record label. It's all about accessibility. I want to be open-minded enough. Do you?

*The exception being some of Manson's covers. They're pretty good if you feel there's not enough gothiness in some of your standard 80s hits.

**The more fool thing to do was to tell Reznor that they were doing that because his fans were willing to pay that. Telling a person like Reznor that you're basically screwing over his fans is like jumping on Danny Bonaduce's face without warning - you're going to end up in bad shape and people will just tell you that you only have yourself to blame.

I See Much Grumbling In Your Future

ABC News is reporting that Stephen Colbert's faux-campaign to run for president might be illegal. The FEC is carefully watching Colbert's movements because of corporate sponsorship, especially because Comedy Central has "given a talk show to a favored candidate".

Um, what? I'm pretty sure Comedy Central gave a talk show to a popular sidekick from The Daily Show. Then, 2 years later, Colbert started a joke campaign. I must start working for Comedy Central - I definitely want the free and accurate tea leaf readings they must be giving out.

The former counsel for the FEC warns that Colbert's presence might significantly affect the election. And you know what I say to that? GOOD.

Oh my goodness, is anyone else sick to death of the 2008 elections? Was anyone else sick of them a freaking year ago when the candidates started lining up??? And they're all just cardboard cut-outs of each other, but they're trying desperately to prove that they aren't. Then they just end up looking like kids in a schoolyard, fighting about who has the better Tonka truck - when they're BOTH freaking Tonka trucks!

I would do a little dance if someone like Colbert stepped up to the plate. I think you might actually get some answers out of him that weren't pandering to the largest demographic possible. For me, it's gotten to be less about what is coming out of your politicking mouth and more about the honesty behind it. Because why bother voting for someone if they're going to turn around and do something completely different than what they promised when they get into office? I'll still grumble when you do things I don't like, but at least I can't grumble and feel cheated at the same time if you told the truth in the first place.

So if Colbert's faux-campaign is making a mockery of a process that basically feeds the American public the gristle off the underside of a barbeque grill and tells them it's prime rib, then fabulous. I think this joke of a election system needs a little jolt of honesty. I hope those plastered-on smiles of the candidates waver a bit as they realize a comedian with a late-night cable show has a more rabid following than they do. Maybe then they'll turn into real boys and girls!

Because I'm a Geek Too

Purely for video gamers or people with a good sense of humor. Yes, he uses bad words. But he's Australian, so I forgive him.

This is one of the two videos on YouTube that you can actually find because this guy was brilliantly picked up by The Escapist - new game reviews are posted every week. This week's review was of Super Paper Mario and it's hilarious. Go check it out.

Indecisive

Over the fierce protests of the Chinese government, the Dalai Lama was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in Washington D.C. today.

I'm a bit torn by this. I respect Buddhism for its messages and the Dalai Lama in turn for conveying those messages so well over that past several decades. He has his controversial moments (don't we all?) but in the end, I think he displays what humanity is capable of - peace, unconditional love and acceptance.

On the other hand, I'm not so sure we should be ticking China off right now. We've done it before and we'll do it again, but the timing on this one just makes me raise an eyebrow. They've pulled out of talks about Iran over this and the president is surprisingly nonchalant about angering such a superpower. We sort of need as many friends as we can get at the moment. I'm no fan of the Chinese government and I don't think bowing down to them is the right thing to do. I just... well, I'm just not sure how I feel about this.

Perhaps I should take the Dalai Lama's view about China's reaction - "Oh, that always happens."

I Heart Stephen Colbert

Because I know a lot of you won't click a link, here's the editorial from the New York Times in its entirety. I know who I'm voting for - at least it'll be a good time. ;)

A Mock Columnist, Amok
By MAUREEN DOWD
Published: October 14, 2007

I was in my office, writing a column on the injustice of relative marginal tax rates for hedge fund managers, when I saw Stephen Colbert on TV.

He was sneering that Times columns make good “kindling.” He was ranting that after you throw away the paper, “it takes over a hundred years for the lies to biodegrade.” He was observing, approvingly, that “Dick Cheney’s fondest pipe dream is driving a bulldozer into The New York Times while drinking crude oil out of Keith Olbermann’s skull.”

I called Colbert with a dare: if he thought it was so easy to be a Times Op-Ed pundit, he should try it. He came right over. In a moment of weakness, I had staged a coup d’moi. I just hope he leaves at some point. He’s typing and drinking and threatening to “shave Paul Krugman with a broken bottle.”

I Am an Op-Ed Columnist (And So Can You!)

By STEPHEN COLBERT

Surprised to see my byline here, aren’t you? I would be too, if I read The New York Times. But I don’t. So I’ll just have to take your word that this was published. Frankly, I prefer emoticons to the written word, and if you disagree :(

I’d like to thank Maureen Dowd for permitting/begging me to write her column today. As I type this, she’s watching from an overstuffed divan, petting her prize Abyssinian and sipping a Dirty Cosmotinijito. Which reminds me: Before I get started, I have to take care of one other bit of business:

Bad things are happening in countries you shouldn’t have to think about. It’s all George Bush’s fault, the vice president is Satan, and God is gay.

There. Now I’ve written Frank Rich’s column too.

So why I am writing Miss Dowd’s column today? Simple. Because I believe the 2008 election, unlike all previous elections, is important. And a lot of Americans feel confused about the current crop of presidential candidates.

For instance, Hillary Clinton. I can’t remember if I’m supposed to be scared of her so Democrats will think they should nominate her when she’s actually easy to beat, or if I’m supposed to be scared of her because she’s legitimately scary.

Or Rudy Giuliani. I can’t remember if I’m supposed to support him because he’s the one who can beat Hillary if she gets nominated, or if I’m supposed to support him because he’s legitimately scary.

And Fred Thompson. In my opinion “Law & Order” never sufficiently explained why the Manhattan D.A. had an accent like an Appalachian catfish wrestler.

Well, suddenly an option is looming on the horizon. And I don’t mean Al Gore (though he’s a world-class loomer). First of all, I don’t think Nobel Prizes should go to people I was seated next to at the Emmys. Second, winning the Nobel Prize does not automatically qualify you to be commander in chief. I think George Bush has proved definitively that to be president, you don’t need to care about science, literature or peace.

While my hat is not presently in the ring, I should also point out that it is not on my head. So where’s that hat? (Hint: John McCain was seen passing one at a gas station to fuel up the Straight Talk Express.)

Others point to my new bestseller, “I Am America (And So Can You!)” noting that many candidates test the waters with a book first. Just look at Barack Obama, John Edwards or O. J. Simpson.

Look at the moral guidance I offer. On faith: “After Jesus was born, the Old Testament basically became a way for Bible publishers to keep their word count up.” On gender: “The sooner we accept the basic differences between men and women, the sooner we can stop arguing about it and start having sex.” On race: “While skin and race are often synonymous, skin cleansing is good, race cleansing is bad.” On the elderly: “They look like lizards.”

Our nation is at a Fork in the Road. Some say we should go Left; some say go Right. I say, “Doesn’t this thing have a reverse gear?” Let’s back this country up to a time before there were forks in the road — or even roads. Or forks, for that matter. I want to return to a simpler America where we ate our meat off the end of a sharpened stick.

Let me regurgitate: I know why you want me to run, and I hear your clamor. I share Americans’ nostalgia for an era when you not only could tell a man by the cut of his jib, but the jib industry hadn’t yet fled to Guangdong. And I don’t intend to tease you for weeks the way Newt Gingrich did, saying that if his supporters raised $30 million, he would run for president. I would run for 15 million. Cash.

Nevertheless, I am not ready to announce yet — even though it’s clear that the voters are desperate for a white, male, middle-aged, Jesus-trumpeting alternative.

What do I offer? Hope for the common man. Because I am not the Anointed or the Inevitable. I am just an Average Joe like you — if you have a TV show.

I Can't Believe I'm Rooting for Danny Bonaduce

So today Jonny Fairplay* sued Danny Bonaduce for battery. I've seen the video footage of the awards show where this happened. If you haven't, let me summarize - blond Carrot-Top jumps on the face of the angriest man ever and surprise! gets thrown off and breaks his teeth.

Doesn't it take you back to the paper-clip-in-the-eye case from Torts I? I mean, if someone I knew said to me, "Hey, here's a funny bit I was thinking of doing - naughty, naughty things to Danny Bonaduce's torso/face region without his prior knowledge! Also, I'm thinking of doing it in front of an audience (and a nation) that hates me," I would slap them. That's battery. Having someone freak out because you decided to 'recapture' your audience while on that someone's face is not.

*Apparently, he was on Survivor and is a complete jackass. Thank you, Wikipedia. What would I do without you?

This is Going to be a Long(horn) Week

Red River Shootout is this weekend. (I refuse to call it the pansy name they're trying to change it to that doesn't involve violence. I don't even know what the new name is, come to think of it. Red River Square Dance? Red River Shake-Hands-And-Pretend-We-Never-Historically-Shot-At-Each-Other?) Anyway, all the cool kids are going to watch. More importantly, all the cool kids are going to be rooting for UT.

Yeah, yeah. I'm engaging in some unapologetic favoritism. It's allowed every once in awhile. Go get your own blog if you disagree.

I have to admit I haven't been following the season very closely. I'm actually trying to be a decent student this quarter and devoting half of my life and money to UT is something I did for several years already, only back then it was my father's money. However, there's one thing we can all agree upon - when it comes to old rivals, even the least spirited feel their loyalties rise anew.

But please. One word of wisdom. Don't be a sore winner. Sore losers are annoying (I know, because I am one) but they have an excuse. Rubbing a win into someone else's face, however, is tacky and speaks only to your ill-breeding.

And for the sore losers - keep a lid on it. Appreciate good plays, whether or not they're made by your team. Realize that you're bringing down everyone by your crappy attitude. But you're allowed to walk away if a sore winner gets in your face - because we really want to avoid physical violence, don't we?

Let's hope I can follow my own rules. And until the game, feel free to root for whoever you wish. I'll only secretly hate you, as you're allowed to secretly hate me for my allegiances. :)

Keeping the Faith, For Now

The initiative I talked about in this post, which removed religious books from prisons that were not on a pre-approved list, has been suspended. Apparently, conservatives and liberals alike called for a stop to this ridiculousness. I hope it sticks.

But it also makes me a bit happier because, for whatever their reasons, two opposite sides came together for something that is correct and good. So it can be done! Imagine that.

Savor the Moment... Before A Car Hits You

I make no secret of the fact that I dislike Waco. I'm a city girl through and through and I miss real shopping, real restaurants and movie theaters built after 1985. Yes, I can get almost anything I need in Waco, but I miss a lot of my vapid, pointless wants, like any trip to Crate & Barrel turns out. (I don't NEED a compressed bamboo cutting board - but do I have one? Yes, yes I do.)

But there's one moment where I feel at home in Waco outside of the confines of law school. That moment? When I cross the street to go into my bank.

I bank at Bank of America and if you know Waco, you know that the one here is actually in an attractive building across the square (I call it "square" because it sounds better than "parking lot") from the sole beauty of Waco, the courthouse. It has a little brick walkway to lead people from the "square" to the bank itself. Sometimes cars stop for you and let you walk across the little two lane road. When I do cross, as I did today, I feel like I'm in one of those quaint little towns that has a population of 124 and where trees turn colors in the fall and there's a phone tree to tell you when school has a snow-day instead of having to listen to the morning news. Apparently, I have some tiny-town girl inside of my city girl facade. And so I enjoy my moments of walking into the bank and think that maybe I should move to some tiny little Pennsylvania or Vermont town and be one of two or three lawyers handling stuff like wills for the apple farmer down the street and representing the only "criminal" in town, the village drunk. And I want it to be called a "village", because that sounds nice.

Then I snap out of it and laugh a little to myself.

Dark, Seething Confusion

While roving around iTunes, my giftcard ready in my hot little hand thanks to generous interviewers, I noticed something. Nickelback's "Rockstar" is one of the top music video, song and ringtone downloads right now. Irritation (and a bit of nostalgia, as anyone would have that's heard Prof CivPro's opinion on the topic) welled up within me. Not only is this song kind of old, as I remember hearing it months back, but I also remember thinking how much I HATED it. Ugh. I don't get it. Are they being ironic? Are they saying that they DON'T do all that Hollywood, hypocritial crap that they spew in the lyrics? Or are they saying they do and they're laughing in our stunned faces? Either way, it IRKS me to the extreme. Nickelback has cemented itself into a category previously inhabited only by Creed - Bands That Make Fear for the Future of the Human Race.

Hi, I'm the Freak That Wants YOUR Dog Safe

I've had an emotional roller-coaster of a day. It began with me running into Tax at 8:01 this morning, 8 minutes after I woke up and while thinking, "Good Lord, this must be how Britney Spears feels EVERY DAY. Unwashed, unkempt and still with product in her hair from yesterday. Also, everyone staring at you."

Then came my brief explosion of irritation at the end of T&E, which had little to do with T&E and everything to do with insane and annoying people.* Have you ever noticed how insane and annoying people come in pairs though?

Let me back up to say that yesterday before class, I come out of my apartment and find a tiny little dachshund sniffing around my door. Charlie goes ballistic and wants to play with the little girl who is 1/3 of his weight. I decide to take her to the office, as there is NO tag and NO ONE calling for her, although I'm sure I've seen her around. The girl in the office says that she knows who the puppy belongs to. Cue the momentary sadness that I don't get to keep the sweet little girl, but also the happiness that I helped find someone's lost pet.

Back to today and when I step out to take Charlie to do "his puppy thing", as my mother calls it. The little dachshund is back! And she's found my upstairs neighbor, who I quickly barrage with the tale of yesterday. She points me to the apartment where she thinks she's seen the dog. I take the dachshund (who is now sniffing around the fence which does no good job of keeping her from the busy road) to the apartment. Some gormless little undergrad looks at the dog, looks at me like I'm a crazy person myself and then "remembers" it's his roomie's dog. Said roomie comes down the path moments later on crutches.

"Oh thanks," she says.

"I've found her sniffing around my apartment twice in two days," I answer.

"Yeah. Did you let her out?" she asks the gormless undergrad.

"No. I dunno."

She turns to me. "Yeah, I can't take her out on a leash because I'm on crutches."

"Right," I say. "Well, I was just worried. I mean, she was wandering alone, way over there."

"Oh, well. Okay, thanks." She takes the puppy and shuffles back inside, both her and the gormless undergrad giving me suspicious glances over the shoulder.

I don't know. Maybe I AM a freak for wanting the dachshund to live another day. But when I care about your dog more than you do, I can't help but be the freak. Even now, I'm looking outside the window every 5 seconds to see if the dachshund has returned. And yes, I WILL come back to your place and knock on the door, despite the crazy looks, if she does return. Maybe you'll get it after awhile. I'm not PETA. I'm not going to smear red paint on your fur coat. But at the risk of sounding like a mother, you got the dog and now it's your responsibility! Please, PLEASE, take it seriously. My heart just can't take it if you don't.

*Note that it's no one at BLS. Or anyone affiliated. Or anyone remotely familiar with BLS. Or, just to be clear, anyone at law firms that might be interviewing at BLS.

Because I Need To Laugh

I heart Lewis Black. I once met him - he's not nearly this angry in real life. He humored me as I stuttered and as the girl next to me slurred drunkenly. (I take comfort in the fact that I was not as embarrassing as her.)

Anyway, if you haven't seen Lewis Black before, (a) you should and (b) be warned that he has a foul mouth and insults everyone. Believe it or not, this is one of the tamer segments I found and actually a bit that I saw him perform in Austin 2 years ago.

I think he's hilarious. I hope you do too and get a little laugh on a slow, sad Monday.

Keeping the Faith?

I don't talk about religion much. Despite what my mother and my church attendance record might say however, I have deeply held beliefs that affect my life in many ways. It is an important facet of the lives of a large part of the world and I'm sure that includes many people in the highest positions of our government.

So why is the Federal Bureau of Prisons taking religion away from inmates?

I understand not allowing prisoners to get their own personal copies of the Anarchist's Cookbook, but to cut religious texts to a paltry 150 titles per religion? Does Robert H. Schuller's "Hours of Power" really represent a great threat to the federal prisons? Are they afraid the prisoners will rise as one and start belting out gospel music? Frankly, if I were a prisoner, I would rather do that than read one of the 9 C.S. Lewis titles that are permitted. Narnia is lyrically fabulous; "The Pilgrim's Regress" should be used instead of anesthesia.

But correct me if I'm wrong - religion tends to promote peace and tolerance as a rule. Any religious text that promotes ideas of violence and extremism, I would argue, it not religious text at all but propaganda. And we all know exactly what kind of text the Bureau REALLY thinks is dangerous. So be honest, Bureau of Prisons, and ban texts that incite violence and extremism. At least then you aren't impinging unnecessarily on the rights of those who want to read true Christian, Muslim, Jewish and other religious books. You're making the same mistake so many make these days - associating an entire religion(s) with the few psychos who want to use the said religion as a mask for their said psychosis.

Mostly Babble

So I've been agonizing about what my first post of the new school year should be. I thought about writing about everything from the fact that the lack of Prof CivPro has made this year's 1Ls entirely too comfortable to the 'finally!' moment of Britney Spears getting investigated by CPS (again). In the end, I decided that I wasn't actually that picky, just uninspired to write anything. Now that it's the 2nd week of school, I just look lazy. So be it. Now your expectations are lowered to an acceptable level.

I really only have one bit of news anyway - that my husband has got a new job at Best Buy with the Geek Squad. (So fitting, that name.) This might not be entirely impressive to you, except for the fact that he's been delivering pizzas for the last 10 months, while his Computer Science degree hangs above my desk in all of its useless glory. In Waco, you see, computer people like Jon have 2 options - complete mediocrity, usually in a job that has nothing to do with their expertise (see: delivering pizzas) or they can pull out their PhD in astrophysics and go work at the aerospace engineering firm just outside of Waco. And Jon doesn't have a secret PhD in astrophysics. Unless he's hiding something, in which case I think a secret degree is probably the least of my worries. So in all, Jon is pleased with his job, which doesn't quite fit either of these usual 2 options.

But that's not my point. The point is that while applying to Best Buy online, Jon came across this question in the personality test, which I can only assume was created by a psychology major, because those are my people and I know their work:

"You get angry when the court system lets guilty people go free. Do you: Strongly Agree? Agree? Disagree? Strongly Disagree?"

There are so many problems with this question that my brain literally screeched to a halt for several minutes. The fact that it chafes against my growing bias towards the defense is the least of them. But I had to wonder - is this how people see the court system? My own childhood was full of detective and cop shows - I knew "innocent until proven guilty" before my ABCs and I'm not kidding. (My parents never thought I really comprehended what was going on in those mystery shows they watched every Tuesday night, but truthfully, this is probably where I formed my complete non-surprise at the perversions of human nature. Also, I was allowed to watch Purple Rain at age 4.)

But it was surprising, especially knowing that this questionnaire was probably edited a thousand times by a dozen people, who are presumably people with college degrees and 2 brain cells to rub together. I would have expected better. Or perhaps BLS has already warped me and I should have expected nothing.

Warning - Indelicate Words

This morning the NY Times had an article about the possible banning of the word "bitch". If you hadn't heard, the NY city council has already banned the n-word earlier this year. I really wasn't paying attention that first time because I do find the n-word to be horrible. I wouldn't have banned it though. I know that some people claim that the stigma has been stripped from the n-word. Personally however, I'm not a fan and I think we all know that if I - a little Southern middle-class white girl - used that word, no one would be brushing off anything except for my blood from their clothes. And I like my nose unbroken, thank you. But "bitch"? Come on. The city council member who proposed this ban said that it is a "paradigm of shame and indignity for all women".

Let's pause for a minute and consider that.

Okay. Now all you women out there, raise your hands if you think "bitch" is "a paradigm blah blah blah". Hmm, I'm not seeing a lot of response. Now, raise your hands if you don't want this city council woman speaking for you just because you happen to both have a uterus.

Ah. I'm seeing a lot more response there.

I understand that people are sensitive to words. But whereas the n-word has historical degradation woven through it, "bitch" started out as a term for female dogs. Does anybody with a modicum of education not realize that? That when you call someone a "bitch", you're calling them a female dog? No, it's not the nicest thing to say. The column has quotes from people saying that the ban would prevent them from calling half their friends. And that is just weird. I think they need to turn up the class a bit with their friends. But what is the council going to do? Ban the words "female dog" next? It's a slippery slope is all I'm saying.


I'm all for feminism. Yay for equality and all that. But there's a division of feminists these days: The group that wants to protect women from all discrimination, whether or not that discrimination is real or even a reasonable expenditure of time, and the group that thinks the first group is nutters. I guess I'm part of that second group, which spends its time on true subjugation of women. I'm a bit more concerned when a 10 year old girl is being ritually circumcised or when a woman is getting beaten for the sake of not covering her ankles or when a pregnant woman is fired for taking up too much of the company's medical resources. "Bitch" is hardly on my radar.

What? Not the World's Biggest Ball of Twine?

The New Seven Wonders of the World have officially been chosen:

Chichen Itza - Mexico
Christ Redeemer - Brazil
The Great Wall - China
Machu Picchu - Peru
Petra - Jordan
The Colloseum* - Italy
Taj Mahal - India
The Great Pyramids - Egypt (I know this makes 8, but apparently Egyptian officials threw a big hissy that they had to compete, being the only surviving wonder of the original 7.)

I've only been to Chichen Itza. (I've been to Peru twice - both times to the Amazon Basin, the complete other end of the country from Macchu Picchu.) I'm not a big fan of the Christ Redeemer statue though. It just doesn't hold the beauty of the other nominees for me. I would have chosen Easter Island or Stonehenge or Angkor, which were all runner-ups, in its place. There are other places in the world that I would add too - Thailand's Reclining Buddha, which is a sight to behold, for example (Thailand in general is chock full of great stuff actually). Or the Sistine Chapel. Or Westminster Abbey.

What would you add?

* Proof of why I shouldn't post while sleepy. It's spelled Colosseum. And even though the actual website spelled it incorrectly, I'm kind of surprised at myself for not catching it immediately. I'm losing it, ya'll. Losing. It.

Challenge

Charlie's visit to the vet was this morning. He was such a good boy as they took out his stitches, tested him for worms of all kinds (and was all negative, yay!) and gave him his rabies shot. Unfortunately, they also determined that Charlie is indeed deaf. Jon and I had been pretty sure of it before now, but the vet confirmed it. It's crushing to find that your baby has some serious genetic defect.

But I loved him from the moment I saw him and I'm not giving up on him. I've already researched deafness in dogs and was pleased to learn that they can be trained just as easily as hearing dogs using hand signals instead of your voice. He's going to start training classes in the next week or so.

Even so, I'd like to ask, has anyone out there had experience with a deaf dog? Tips? Advice? Maybe a solution to stop Charlie from thinking I'm a chew toy?

Name Contest!

Okay, not so much a contest because there are no awards but I will give kudos to anyone that comes up with a good name for my new puppy! Jon and I had a list of names already, but none of them seem to fit this little guy and since he was a stray, the Waco Humane Society didn't have one for him either. Suggest away!

Manners Again

I went to a summer clerk seminar/lunch thing yesterday at the federal courthouse. Most of the people there were from law firms and another handful worked there every day as judicial interns. I think I was the only one from another government agency (the Federal public defender). I was also the only one from Baylor so far as I could tell. It was a little weird because everyone else seemed to be interning all at the same firm and/or from SMU.*

After a morning of overviews of the federal courts and the magistrate courts and a little mock trial, which was rather amusing, we had lunch with a panel. All the panelists were present or former clerks and I was pleased to hear from them until the organizer read their credentials - Yale or Harvard came up in all of them. Cue the slumping into my seat in recognizance of my futility. They reminded me of those people from the beginning of Legally Blonde, when everyone's talking about their master's and PhD's while Reese Witherspoon talks about her successful mixers.


After lunch, we were given tours of the courthouse departments, including probation, bankruptcy court, the clerk's office and the US Marshal. The Marshal's office was by far the most fun. And this is where my little rant on manners begins.

The US Marshal, whose name I never caught, was a really nice guy in his 40s who happily led our group around the training facility. You know those movies where they show army or police trainees running around a mock-up or a crack house or terrorist cell safe-house with night vision and plastic guns and they shoot each other? Yeah, they have one of those in the federal courthouse. It was pretty cool. He walked us all the way through, including the stress room, which isn't very big but they turn out the lights and the AC and make you feel like you're really fighting for your life. And the Deputy Marshal was just so excited about all of this, talking about how he brings in police and army reservists (he being a reservist himself) on weekends so that they can learn things that will potentially save their lives.

He obviously loved his job and loved teaching us about how the Marshal's trained for close combat. I thought it was really sweet. Meanwhile, some of the students began snickering at his enthusiasm as he led us from room to room, admittedly taking up way more time than we had been allotted.

But still, what snobs! If I one day loved my job as much as that deputy clearly did, I would thank my lucky stars. And if I ever have the luck to become a federal judge, I want someone exactly like him to be protecting me in court.

Don't be like those jerks. Be happy for someone who enjoys their job, especially a job that entails protecting you. In short, don't act like you were born in a barn and instead act like you have some civility and good manners.

*I'm really not trying to pick on people from SMU. I was considering going there myself. One of my close friends does go there. But in Dallas, SMU is the prevalent source for law students so this is just the result of statistics.

Smack down

She was found guilty.

"So why is the title of this post 'Smack down', Yee?"

Because the jury took 2 1/2 hours to decide she wasn't guilty. Apparently after the rather disastrous warm-up, she did quite well during the testimony and closing. It helped that the cop was apparently quite the jerk and made the defendant's conduct not so bad. Good for her.

But the REAL smack down was given by the judge. During sentencing, the ADA recommended 60 days in jail, 90 on probation, an $800 fine and a letter of apology to the officer. The charge was (I don't think I said this in my last post) interference with a public servant. Basically she got in the cop's face. So you can imagine the look we all gave to the ADA when he recommended this sentence. The defendant simply asked for a higher fine and less jail time. It was the only time she looked like she was going to cry.

The judge looked at the defendant, looked at the ADA and laid out her sentence. Time already served (2 days in jail) and a $1 fine plus court costs.

I would have laughed my ass off if I hadn't been so shocked. And I think the ADA would have fallen over if he hadn't frozen stiff. The public defender assisting the defendant was the only one that let out a big grin.

Pro Se

This morning I came into court fully expecting to drift off and away to another court, perhaps a felony court on the 5th floor, to find something interesting to watch. While I love watching everything in misdemeanor court, I just needed something different than my 100th jail chain case for a DWI, my 200th plea for a DWI or 10th jury selection for a DWI.

Lo and behold, the "something different" came to me - a pro se case going to jury trial. For the non-law students in the crowd, that means the defendant is defending him or herself. Now, you might be thinking, "Hey, that's their right. How dare you take such amusement in that? That's their constitutional right!"

And yes, yes it is. I don't debate that. That Constitution of ours, it's a damn good bit of writing. That said, if you are ever in court do NOT defend yourself. If you don't have money for paying a lawyer, the court provides one for you, for FREE. And while I can't speak to many other courts, the public defenders I know are excellent lawyers committed to getting their indigent clients the best of a crappy situation.

There are precious few defendants who have a honest-to-goodness valid reason for passing up on a free lawyer or the opportunity to hire their own. I can't think of any of those reasons at the moment, but I'm sure they're out there.* But if you're not one of those few, take that lawyer and thank heaven we have a system that provides everyone who wants it with counsel.

Because really, this morning when I heard there was a pro se case going to trial, I was pleased. I've seen a few of these types of defendants and they are often real characters. I thought that I'd come home and say something like, "Hey, you would never believe what this pro se defendant did... Isn't that funny in an endearing way? Luckily the public defender who was assisting her corrected her and everything worked out and she got a fair trial."

But it wasn't funny in an endearing way. It was painful and struck up motherly instincts in me that I had long thought were dead. I just wanted to take the defendant out for soup, crackers and a big mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows (ignoring the fact that it's June) and tell her that it would be all okay. Even though I have a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't be.

The jury panel didn't understand her questions during voir dire, the state made awkward objections to things that the judge had already told her she couldn't say, and her opening statement was senseless rambling compared to the ADA's short and concise statement. By the end of the morning, the jury was already looking at her like she was insane. I'm undecided whether it made it more painful that she seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that she was alienating the 6 people that would decide her fate.

I'll tell you tomorrow what that fate is. But I think we all know already.

* Maybe that guy that Prof Crim Law ended up defending at the 5th Circuit, whose original lawyer had screwed him over so badly both monetarily and legally that he was teaching himself the law for the appeal. He won that appeal based on his own appellate brief.

I'm Not As Eloquent As AlicoDreams

About 7 1/2 years ago, I was in 10th grade and had Ms. Newbold for English. She was a pretty bad teacher with the wardrobe of a 15 year old. So we ignored her and did what we wanted to do during her class. (This repeated in 11th grade with Mrs. Green, who was a better teacher but not a strong enough force against 35 teenagers in the last class period of the day. I'm surprised I know what a book is.) Anyway, I had this class with some friends including a girl named Vicki. She introduced me to the guy who sat behind her, a towering Asian guy who I'd never heard speak before.

My immediate thought was, "He's kind of scary." My second thought was, "This guy must be the best poker player in the world. He's inscrutable."

Subsequent meetings went better. We started dating in 12th grade. Our friends took bets on how long we'd last. None of them won.

Years later, Jon is still a towering Asian who is very quiet and not easily angered or amused. He is still a good poker player and can even bluff me on rare occasions. But usually he doesn't. Here's to my husband of 1 year (minus a day), who still lets me win.

Oh, the Things I've Seen!

It's been an interesting few days. At state court, I've met my first meth addict, saw a guy try to convince entire court's staff that he could defend himself in a marijuana possession case, helped another guy NOT get his bond forfeited and watched my judge deliver a few choice words to an unprepared ADA for the first setting of a 2005 case. At the federal public defender's office, I've finally gotten my federal ID, watched a bank robber plead guilty after he ripped off a bank to pay off the furniture he bought for his apartment, visited the trailer that this article refers to, and met a "reformed" cocaine dealer. (That was in quotes for a reason, yes, but I'm not completely convinced he isn't reformed either. It was a short meeting.)

I've also been sitting around at both jobs watching my billionth DWI plea or reading my billionth case file about the latest drug dealer the DEA caught because the dealer was being (shock!) a moron. But, all in all, they're good jobs. Now only if I could get my parking pass for the courthouse...

Oh! And before I forget, let's have a little talk about MANNERS, shall we? You may or may not know me, but you should pretty much assume that everyone you meet is happy in their life. If you insult any major portion of that life, be prepared to be hated. Even if it's a suppressed, secret hatred. If you're incredibly rude to someone in the first few minutes of their acquaintance, you can bet that you've burned that bridge even before you had a blueprint. An illustration (yes, this happened to me yesterday):

Ann (the court coordinator): Oh, Defense Lawyer, have you met Sarah? She's the judge's intern for a few weeks.
Defense Lawyer: Hi! Nice to meet you. Are you a law student?
Me: Yeah, I just finished my first year.
DL: At SMU?
Me: No, Baylor.
DL: Ah, Baylor... where they teach you to pass the bar, but not how to be an attorney.
Me: *shocked, momentary stare* Um... well, we did have 100% pass rate on the February bar.
DL: *continuing to be happy and such, either trying to skate past his horrible insult 2 seconds after meeting me or being truly so stupid that he didn't realize that it was an insult* Yeah, I read about that!

I narrowly avoided asking him if he wanted to critique my appearance while he was at it. Obviously, the man had no boundaries.

Mini-Update

1. There was a judge wondering where I was. I am now in the correct place, although I'm doing about as little as I was before.

2. My parents aren't moving to Little Rock! I have nothing against Arkansas (probably because I've never been there) but I am so very, very pleased about this.

First Day of My Summer Job(s)

Instead of telling you exactly what happened today, I'm going to post my thoughts as I moved through the day. In the morning, I was at the Frank Crowley Court in Dallas for my internship with Judge King. In the afternoon, I was at the Federal Public Defender's Office.

7:00 am: "I woke up 2 hours before I'm supposed to be downtown. I'm going to be late."

8:45 am: "Yeah... definitely late. And damn it, I hate Industrial Boulevard. What is he DOING? God, that's creepy."

9:20 am: "I have no idea where I'm supposed to be. This is supposed to be a judicial internship, so where's the judge? Why is no one in the DA's workroom?"

9:25 am: "There are too many damn people in here!"

10:00 am: "I'm shocked anything ever gets done in this system. Where is that file? Why are the only ones I'm looking for the only ones that are missing? Is this really how plea agreements are done? This is absolute chaos."

11:00 am: "She is way too excited about having an intern. And why didn't she know I was coming in the first place? Am I even in the right place?"

11:50 am: "Really people, am I in the right place? Is there a judge wondering where her new intern is?"

12:05 pm: "Well, at least I have plenty of time to make it 2 blocks to my next job."

12:45 pm: "I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE TO PARK! I HATE DOWNTOWN!"

1:10 pm: "Well, at least my new boss is nice enough to lend me $3.50 for parking only minutes after meeting me because I only had $1.50 in cash."

2:30 pm: "Fingerprinting. Going on the list of messiest activities possible."

3:00 pm: "Fourth computer and it still doesn't work. Ah, government funding. At least it isn't DOS like the court house."

4:00 pm: "Awesome. Fraud and bribery. Oh! And public nudity!"

5:00 pm: "No brain work."

So it wasn't the best of first days. But I've had worse first days too. All in all, I think that the court internship will be a lot of busy work, but the sort of busy work that actually helps the DAs, which is nice. And I'm going to be helping the public defender's office do research and draft motions and suchlike, so that'll be nice too. Everyone was nice (even though none of the DAs in the morning knew who I was - I also got approached by several defense lawyers to sign off on plea agreements). It was exhausting, but by the end of the week, I'll be used to working again. How quickly I lose tolerance for 8 hour days!

For Music Geeks

My friend - a cellist - sent me this. As a violinist, I laugh at cellists' plight with Pachelbel. What can I say? I'm a mean person, even in the classical music world. Anyway, it's a clever bit and amusing, even for those that can't sing Pachelbel in their sleep.

Name-Calling

So Ms. ALV has suggested that I come up with a nickname for Jon, similar to her practice of calling her significant other "Mr. ALV". All my personal nicknames for Jon border on saccharine sweet. And I hate saccharine sweetness in public. (Seriously, who told some of these people that making out in public is a decent, civilized thing to do? I'm not your dentist or doctor or other health care provider - there is no reason I should be seeing your tongue!)

*ahem* Anyway, against my better judgment, I've decided to open the floor for suggestions. I'm just not that clever to do it myself. For those of you that don't know Jon personally, a few things you might want to consider:

-- He's a big geek. (I like geeks so I'm not being insulting.)
-- He's Asian. Chinese, to be exact. He doesn't speak the language though.
-- Although he's Asian, he's 6'1". It amuses me.
-- He's in training to be a computer science teacher.
-- He's very quiet and logical. Basically, the exact opposite of me.

Go for it.

Hug Your Confidante Today

Today at lunch for this girl's birthday (and what a fun birthday - an exam AND getting your brief back?!) we briefly discussed how sometimes, moms are the best ones to go to when you're feeling down. When I got home, I had reason to call my mother for just this reason.

I know that I'm extremely lucky to have Jon. A lot of people don't have even one person that they can tell everything to and feel better at the end of the conversation. But there's something about moms. If my mom and Jon said the same assurances to me, the assurance from my mother would be far more comforting. Maybe it's the practice she's had over the 22 years of my life, or maybe it's because I am an only child and am just accustomed to going to her. I don't know. I just know I'm going to miss her when my parents move to Little Rock later this year. But I do get 2 whole months living with my parents in Dallas this summer. I'm sure that will cure me of my uncharacteristic mushiness.

The sun was shining on the sea...

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"to talk of many things.
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,
of cabbages and kings
And why the sea is boiling hot
And whether pigs have wings."
~Lewis Carroll

This is pretty much how I feel in the time that leads up to finals. I'll distract myself in any way possible from the upcoming terror and the realization that I've basically done NOTHING during the quarter. These distractions take a variety of forms, making Jon wonder if I'm maybe a bit bipolar. I tell him that I don't have the energy to be bipolar. My distractions for the week:

"Cold Comfort Farm" by Stella Gibbons.

This is one of my favorite books. When I'm feeling especially sour on life, I read this or "Jane Eyre", which IS my favorite book. "Jane Eyre" isn't very comical, of course, whereas "Cold Comfort Farm" is a comic satire of all those novels that describe the gloomy and tragic romances English people apparently have all the time on country farms. You know, downers like "Tess of the d'Urbervilles". Anyway, Flora walks into one of these gloomy and tragic farms that all those novels have and decides to clean things up. It's probably not a book for guys, unless you're a big fan of Victorian novels. If you are, kudos to you.

Proving that I might be bipolar after all, my other distraction will be Year Zero, the Nine Inch Nails CD coming out on Tuesday. I've only heard one track from it - "Survivalism" - which didn't actually excite me all that much. With Teeth is looking to be the better album of the two recent NIN albums. But Trent Reznor is near and dear to my heart and I'm going to buy Year Zero anyway. I usually find the songs that weren't released as singles are better anyway. The only reason I didn't go to their last concert was because it was on my wedding day. And I still considered going. In my wedding dress. Those would have been awesome pictures. *sigh*

I'm now done foisting my distractions upon you. Back to outlining.

Please, for the love of all that is decent...

Please, Nicolas Cage, I entreat you to stop making movies. Especially ones where you're a psuedo-superhero. Or just a superhero. Those stink too. If you absolutely insist, at least get some Rogaine. You were cute as the slightly psycho one-handed opera fan in "Moonstruck". But that was 20 years ago. In the immortal words of "The Wedding Singer" from that scene where Adam Sandler's womanizing best friend reveals his inner fears - "No one wants to see a fifty-year-old guy hitting on chicks." And when an Adam Sandler vehicle starts making valid points, it's time to listen.

I realize that this is the second post addressing the issues of the rich and famous and slightly creepy, but I'm very depressed at the moment and I'm feeling the need to make fun of aging celebrities. Besides, Cage named his son Kal-El. He has cursed his child to a life of humiliation during many a recess and lunch time. I think that Cage thinks it's still 1989 and so his son can get defend himself by saying, "My dad is Nicolas Cage and he'll beat up your dad!" But I'm pretty sure even Skeet Ulrich's kid is going to win that one. Which is just sad.

The point of all this being that I'm not going to see "Next", Cage's upcoming attempt to ensnare all of Hollywood in his own personal midlife crisis. Can't you just see the headlines for the reviews? ""Next"? Next!" Then there will be a little blurb under that about how Cage plans to change his name to Jor-El.

Pathetically Amusing Becomes Creepy

Keith Richards has told a British magazine that he snorted his father's ashes with some blow. Um, gross. If Keith Richards wasn't the reason to never do drugs before, this seals the deal. The best part is where he tells the reporter that his father wouldn't have minded. Keith, Keith, Keith... I'm pretty sure this proves that it didn't go "down well". If you just thought forward in this process a little, you would realize that you are literally flushing some of your father's remains down the toilet.

In addition, I think that anything that Cartman from South Park has done is generally not meant to be a shining example for others. Even if you are a rock star.

Queen and Princess

I adore Queen, so people often send me music by imitators. I knew about The Darkness long before most people, and now Mika is apparently gaining popularity. Both do a pretty fair imitation, but I would never be able to listen to this song as I do with Bohemian Rhapsody. A cliched choice of best Queen song perhaps, but who of the younger set doesn't have a fond memory of seeing Wayne's World and it's version? (I was 8 and I trace my love of Queen to that moment. I was sitting on my best friend's staircase which faced the TV and I remember we rewinded it and played it about 12 times.)

When I was watching this video, however, lots of people got the whole Queen-imitation thing. What many YouTube viewers don't know is this - who is Grace Kelly?

Are you kidding me? I thought it was a fluke, but going back into the comments, I found several people asking who she was. One response said "According to Wikipedia, one of the most popular and beloved Americans of the 20th century, as well as a Princess of Monaco." Really, people??? You had to look it up on Wikipedia? And Princess of Monaco was the best you could do? I know she wasn't in scads of movies, but she was iconic. Rear Window alone would have cemented her into American cinematic history.

I'm disappointed in today's youth. (I'm assuming with the name SkyRats, the most recent questioner is young.) I also feel old.

Friday Night... Dead People?

I was driving home today and thought of one of my favorite quotes, which is oh so applicable right now: "Lois, I am obligated to keep loving you, so I will take my rage out on my own body. Let's go to Denny's."

I'm not going to Denny's. But instead of talking about what I want to talk about, I'm going to be smart. Let's talk about TV. I don't watch a lot of it. When I say that my favorite show is House, that's pretty much because it's the only show I watch regularly. (The other possibility is Venture Brothers, which isn't even on reruns at the moment - if you have no idea what VB is about, get out from under your rock and watch it on DVD or YouTube. Any show that combines a license to kill, Chupacabras, cloning, necromancers and David Bowie is pretty bound to be awesome. Or crap. But this one is awesome.)

Anyway, my TV is about 14 inches wide and I'm too lazy/cheap to go out and get a new one. Even so, when I saw a commercial about a new series that starred Jeff Goldblum, I was drawn to it like (dare I say it?) a fly to... okay, I just wanted to make a "The Fly" joke. Give me a break. I'm not really paying attention to what I'm typing.

Jeff Goldblum seems to raise a lot of emotion in the "I actually remember when Jurassic Park came out in theaters and wasn't being played on TNT every night" crowd. You either love him or you hate him. I get it. Being someone who is very attracted to the tall, dark, geeky type, guess which category I fall into?

The new series is called "Raines" in which Jeff Goldblum plays a cop and it's actually very decent. Not House or Venture Brothers, but pretty darn good. Jeff mumbles as he is wont to do, but it just lends credence to the premise, which is actually clever. He sees dead people! But they're just figments of his imagination, which is the better part. And he's kind of a jerk, which apparently is just the sort of guy I like to watch but not be in the same room with.

I fully expect it to be canceled of course. Although it's not on FOX, which is the kiss of death for 99% of the shows I like, it is moving to Friday nights after a mere 2 weeks on Thursday. Probably not a good sign. But give it a chance while it's on, if for nothing more than some 90s nostalgia. Then I'm sure some horrible new CSI spin-off will take it place. Ugh.

Oy! Still Dancin' Along

Since the Prof. has practically announced me as dead, I thought I would prove my very much alive-ness. I really haven't had much to say actually, as I've been living in Brief Land (not as sexy as it sounds) and then Lazy Land (exactly as sexy as it sounds), but here I am, now in Oral Argument And Scare Me To Death Land.

Eh. I exaggerate. Not that scary, I guess. I was in mock trial in high school and theater in college. I'm used to making a fool of myself, both in front of lawyers and in front of my friends. After wrapping my legs around a strange guy and planting a big kiss on him in front of my mother and my fiance in a particularly badly written play, not much phases me.

Still, when the barrister asks me a question, I feel like I'm in that tap dance scene in "Chicago" where Richard Gere is struggling to make his case. Except I took tap 14 years ago, when I was 8. For a year. And instead of pretty, distracting girls around me, I have people hitting me with big signs saying "she don't know a thing". And apparently, I develop a Midwest accent when I'm nervous with a sinus infection.

The good news is that my heinous sickness has drained all competitive spirit out of me. You might ask why this is good news. Well, considering Valerie and Sarah are still talking to me after I went against them today, that's pretty good for me. Heh. And you think I'm kidding. Wait 'til I get over this darn cough.

Pluckers

Since Jon's working during Spring Break, we're mostly sticking around Waco. However, we're going to have to make a trip down to Austin this coming week. Yeah, yeah... we have friends there. Whatev. But the much more pressing matter is that we must have at least one meal in the new Pluckers on South Lamar.

If you haven't been to Pluckers, you're completely missing out. Best. Wings. Ever. Jon and I are often challenged on this point but we've never conceded. Also, if you like alcohol but don't like beer like me, you must try the Pluckers Lemonade. It's awesome when they make it right and you can order it in huge mugs. Perfect for say... after turning in a brief you've agonized over for weeks.

Anyway, Jon and I have been to every Pluckers in Texas (there's one in Baton Rouge which we would have to make an effort to get to... someday, someday.) We desperately need one in Waco, but until then, we'll make trips to Dallas or Austin.

*The picture is of my friend Chase at the Dallas Pluckers. They don't do the brown-bagging the beers thing anymore, but it's an awesome picture from TX/OU weekend 2005 and the only one I have of any Pluckers. Congrats to Chase for getting into my blog.

Homework? What?

So despite doing far less work this weekend than I should have done (hello, library for the rest of the week), I plan to watch the Oscars tonight. I have seen all of 7 of the nominated films (out of about 30), and none of those that actually matter. I've seen the ones nominated for stuff like "Best Sound Mixing". I know you're jealous. But I really don't have any interest in The Queen or Notes on a Scandal (although I do think Judi Dench is fabulous, so I might force myself to watch it one day). I think that Best Actress should go to Kate Winslet for the simple fact that this is her 5th nomination and still she has never won. And Meryl Streep, as much as I enjoyed The Devil Wears Prada, really doesn't deserve it. She has enough. But that doesn't matter because Helen Mirren will get it.

Does anyone else find the current British royal family utterly boring? Give me Elizabeth I any day.

But I'm going to watch it anyway. Ellen DeGeneres is always a delight because her high energy is of a rare breed that doesn't tire me out just by watching. I watched Jon Stewart last year and he struggled so much with the dead audience that I really felt for him. (Although when he finally got so frustrated that he went off the teleprompter, I was cheering for him.) I hope that Ellen doesn't struggle as much. We'll see.

What I really look forward to is the fashion. Sandra Bullock didn't get enough kudos for her beautiful gown last year, and Michelle Williams got way too much. (Really, canary yellow is daring, but you didn't even notice HER in that dress. I'm sure Vera Wang was okay with that, but Michelle shouldn't have been.) We'll see what ridiculous/splendid choices people make this year.

I don't think that I'll post my reactions to the winners or the fashions. Speculation is far more fun. Unless someone shows up in a dead swan dress or Marisa Tomei wins a write-in Best Actress Oscar. Then I'll have to make rude jokes.

The Greatest Speech of All

Congressman Lewis gave an excellent speech today. He went through things that I cannot imagine. As my mother always said, "You can't know what it was like. If you weren't there, there's no way you can really know. Nothing can compare." But if I could go back in time for just a day, it would be to hear this speech. The man had a gift. And at the risk of sounding corny, I am happy that people like Congressman Lewis keep Dr. King's message alive. It's one that we should never forget.

So Are You?

The answer for yesterday's question:

She was hoping the guy would appear at the funeral again.

If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a test by a psychologist used to see if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in the test and answered the question correctly.

So, do you have the mind of a serial killer? Carver does. But then, so do I - when I told the friend that sent this to me that I got the answer she was more freaked than I would have thought.

Something tells me that this is simply a logic problem and therefore, most law students would answer correctly. On the other hand, perhaps it is an accurate measure of serial killer pathology. I doubt it, but draw your own conclusions.

In other news, Anna Nicole Smith's baby is officially having the worst life ever. Quite the record at 5 months old.

My Favorite? "Astro-nuts"

I'm always fascinated when the public scrutinizes psychological testing. How many times during my undergrad years did I have to defend my choice of a psychology major? Too many to count. The usual charge was, "Psychology is not a science!" Well, not an exact science, no. But it's not astrology either. Psychologists use the scientific method and they use controls and everything else for their experiments that any other scientist would use. So I would argue and I would lose, simply for the sake of being outnumbered.

And then, someone like, say, an astronaut goes nuts and tries to kill her "romantic rival". Then the government starts putting tremendous pressure on psychologists because, after all, shouldn't they have seen this coming??? It's one way or the other, kids. Decide if you want it to be an exact science or not and commit.

So could they have predicted Nowak's breakdown? I don't know. I do know that if they subject these people to psychological testing (and I can't imagine why they wouldn't), it's probably so comprehensive it would make your head spin.

Here's something that my friend sent me awhile back:

A woman, while at the funeral of her own mother, met a guy whom she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing. She believed him to be her dream guy so much, that she fell in love with him right there, but never asked for his number and could not find him. A few days later she killed her sister.

Question: What is her motive for killing her sister?

I'll post the "answer" later. I don't believe that it actually is a true test that psychologists use, but maybe I'm wrong. We'll see.

A Little Rant, by Me

Since I'm assuming that most of you reading this will either one day marry or you're already married, this is a note to you. One day you might have children. Those children will grow up and get married too. This means you have become some poor defenseless girl or guy's new in-laws. They might love you. They might hate you. Either way, you WILL drive them nuts. It's inevitable. And the thing is, you'll be CLUELESS. You think you're giving good advice and little gems from your time as a young, poor newlywed. And you might be. But that doesn't mean that unsolicited advice is welcome. Here's some guidelines for you to remember:

1. If your son is a big guy and somehow (miraculously!) losing weight now that he's married (and out of your house, where apparently chocolate cake is an appropriate mid-morning snack), do not take this as a sign that he needs to pack on that lost 20 pounds. Step away from that turkey! Your son (AND your daughter-in-law) told you about FIVE TIMES that they're going to another Christmas dinner and cannot eat more than they have taken. Neither of them care how good the turkey is if they don't want it. And it's REALLY annoying when you start preparing a plate for them anyway. Do you even listen?

2. If your new daughter-in-law decides to be nice (unusual for her) and invites all of her in-laws (that's you) over for her very first Thanksgiving dinner and asks you to bring rolls and salad... bring rolls and salad! No chicken, no ham, no 3 varieties of potatoes, no 5 pies, no 3 extra varieties of salad and NO COOKIES. She understands that you think she might fail horribly, but that's when your cooking skills and whatever the freezer has in store comes into play. Before that, cease and desist. You have reduced her to mixing herself a gin and tonic. It might look like water... but no, no... it's alcohol. And it's because of you.

3. Stop nagging. You've had your time. Now it's your daughter-in-law's turn to nag your son (just kidding... sorta). He can hear you. You don't have to repeat yourself. He is no longer 5 and can understand what you're saying. Any more than two times becomes nagging and both he and his (for once) silent wife are screaming in their heads.

4. Understand that if your daughter-in-law is silently accepting your "well-informed advice" that she might really just be silently wishing that it was acceptable to walk out on her elders. She has her ways of cooking/keeping house/keeping finances and if they work, accept that. Advice is fine in moderation. But no patronizing tones, please. Keep it short, so that the torture is bearable.

5. DON'T CALL PAST TEN PM! And preferably, not past 9. You might think you're being helpful by informing your son that he got a parking ticket. But at 11 pm and on a Saturday, he really can't do anything about it until Monday. And the nagging again! He said ONCE that he didn't get a ticket and that should be enough. You don't need to ask another 3 times. All you have done is upset your son and ruined your daughter-in-law's evening. Even if she was only studying for finals, now she's writing angry blog entries instead of having a nice, calm evening.

Obviously, these are a bit precise. Feel free to structure these guidelines so that they apply to you and your future son or daughter-in-law. This post might be gone by tomorrow, so take these guidelines to heart in whatever way you deem necessary. Because even if I feel guilty and take them down, I still feel that way. And you can bet your son or daughter-in-law will too.

That said, I love my mother-in-law and realize that I'm lucky to get one that only drives me up the wall instead of making me want to physically hurt myself.

Take My Lawyer, Please

Today in Torts we talked about legal malpractice. It was fun hearing about all the ways we could and could not get sued in the future. And it was fun to hear about Prof Torts own little "I missed my hearing with a judge" story. This is exactly the sort of thing I would do.

In December of '05, I was preparing to graduate from UT. I had only a couple finals and one of them was Ancient Religions of India and Iran. The exam was scheduled for a Wednesday and a review session on the week before that. Unfortunately, there was one of our infamous Texas "wintry mixes" that weekend and school closed down. I go along my merry way, studying for my finals. I show up on the appointed day to find an empty classroom. I freak out. I call Jon. I call a series of friends. All are in class or ignoring me. I finally call my father, give him my info for him to get onto Blackboard, where he finds a notice from my prof that since we were gyped of a review session, we were having a take home final instead. It was due five days prior. I freak out more, only this time there are tears. Let me say that people really stare at you when you're walking across campus in hysterics.

In the end, the prof was understanding and gave me a chance to take the final and turn it in before the following day. In the end, I made an A in the class.

Somehow I don't think a judge would be so understanding. Cue the cold sweat.

T-Mobile - Secret Lovers

There are a lot of ads out there that are impressively well done - Geico, Jack-in-the-Box, Mac. I wasn't so crazy about the Catherine Zeta Jones ads by T-Mobile, but these new ads are hilarious. This is my personal favorite.

Waco: Bastion of Geekdom

My darling husband has one habit that drives me absolutely crazy (not in the good way). It's called World of Warcraft. About 1/3 of you out there are going, "huh?", another 1/3 is going "best game ever!" and the last 1/3 is rolling their eyes. For that first group, a little description is in order. WoW is a MMORPG - a Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game. They go around as trolls or little hobbits or elves or whatever and kill stuff. Yes, it's just as geeky as it sounds. Bunches of people (usually guys) gathering on a online server to pretend that they're ugly creatures carrying big swords. (I could make a Freudian joke here, but I think that's redundant.)

On Tuesday, the "expansion" comes out. Basically, more troll things to play, more land and more headaches for me. Oh. Notice that I'm writing this at 1 am. Have you guessed where I'm going with this? Oh yeah - Jon went and got the expansion at midnight from the local GameStop. I don't want to be a total jerk - I admit that I have my geeky moments too. I even play (read: used to play, before law school) video games on console, like MarioKart Double Dash. And I'll kick your butt too. But I digress. When Jon came home at 12:30, our conversation went like this:

Me: So... that's it? It's freaking huge.
Jon: It's the collector's edition.
Me: Oh my God... Are you kidding?
Jon: No. *starts to unpack the box which is literally the size of a Gutenberg Bible*
Me: What is that?
Jon: Um... a book of the artwork.
Me: And how many people were out there for this treasure trove of wonders?
Jon: About 100.
Me: 100??? You're telling me that 100 people went out at midnight on this cold as crap night and waited outside for a game? A game that they technically already have? Tell me, how many of them were girls?
Jon: Um... well, that's kind of hard to say.
Me: Clarification - how many were players and not just girlfriends rolling their eyes?
Jon: About 10... maybe less. *watches me roll my eyes* This is why I didn't make you go. I knew you wouldn't have any fun.



In compensation for me ridiculing Jon mercilessly here, I offer this - I know what Helm's Deep is. I've read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. Oh yes, I could have answered all of Prof CivPro's questions about it. Except for the Elvish thing. I don't know Elvish.



(Jon isn't irritated at me anymore.)