For God and For Cheese

Notable Differences Between Prague and Italy (specifically Rome)

2008-12-15T00:44:00.000-08:00

We have arrived safely in Prague. We found ourselves in a very, very cold and rather sparse apartment, but it warmed up overnight (apparently the Prague city government decides when the heat works) and for something like $50/night, we are in luxurious quarters for the price. So far, we have not heeded our normal travel practices, which is to avoid restaurants where people greet you outside and to go to local coffee shops. I am writing this e-mail from a Starbucks (it has free WiFi). Last night we also ate at a deserted tourist restaurant. Nevertheless, the food was tasty (mmmm goulash and potato soup) and hearty and after our adventures leaving Rome at Fiumicino and our lack of food during travel, we were ravenous. More on the Fiumicino saga later at The Island of Misfit Toys.

Here are the notable differences we've observed so far:
1. No dog poop.
2. Colder. Much colder.
3. Less rainy.
4. Absence of lingerie stores.
5. More English speakers, or at least more English voluntarily spoken.
6. Crazier currency.
7. More monks, and dudes with guitars. Those are mutually exclusive categories, so far.
8. More messenger bags, possibly.
9. More knitting and crocheting in public. Woo hoo!!
10. ZERO scooters.
11. Praguers seem like "morning people."
12. And, last but not least, a general absence of popery.

Trattoria Da Maria

2008-12-04T12:03:00.000-08:00

Having been thwarted twice in our attempts to eat at this establishment, Mr. Dirteens and I finally succeeded this evening. Italian restaurants don't always have posted hours and they are often open odd hours, when they are, in fact, open. These temperamental and unpredictable hours cause me to build up a lot of anticipation and hope for delicious food. Trattoria Da Maria did not disappoint.

When we walked in, the place was kind of grimy. It looks like a school cafeteria, with glossy mint colored walls and the tables are covered with standard plastic red-and-white checked tablecloths. At 7:30 PM - super early for the Ligurian dining set - the place was already quite crowded. We sat on the second floor, which was serviced by two tweeny (and teeny) waitresses. The kitchen is on the first floor, so the waitresses yell orders down the dumbwaiter.

Our menus arrived very promptly. I assume they are written by "Maria," and the handwriting is quite unintelligible. Before we had a chance to look through the whole menu (Primi, Secondi, Contorni(?), and Dolci), our waitress asked if we were "pronti?" Not being ready, and as we were fumbling a bit for the Italian necessary to continue conversing in her native language, she switched to English and we pulled out an order for two minestrone alla Genovese. Dang. It was phenomenal. The cannellini beans lent a creamy texture to the soup, the parmesan was peppery, it was... pestolicious.

For round two, we took our waitresses recommendations and Mr. Dirteens partook of the "Stoccafisso." This dish consists of Ligurians taking some dried out cod, soaking it, and adding potatoes and olives. While the fish remains quite chewy, it is more delicious than it sounds. Quite tasty actually. I had the "Polpettone" It has the texture of a fish cake, and is formed like a large patty, encrusted with cornmeal or flour. Some websites describe it as a meatloaf, and that is quite accurate. However, the polpettone is lighter than most meatloaves and it is vegetarian, at least at Da Maria. Apparently, Ligurians make their version of polpettone most often on the weekends. Don't ask me why, this website just says so. In any event, the combination of vegetable, potato, cheese, and egg, was scrumptious.

Having enjoyed our waitress's recommendations, we also permitted her to choose our desserts. We were a little crestfallen when she brought out identical desserts, since it would have been nice to sample two different creations, but at practically the first bite, we were too drunk to care. From what we could tell, the desserts were a very simplistic tiramisu, absolutely drenched in marsala. I'm almost feel a little tipsy just reflecting on that first boozy bite.

In the end, this fantastic meal (we skipped wine) only set us back 21 euro!! I almost regret posting that price since I fear that the restaurant will learn how good it is and hike up the prices. Chances of that happening are mercifully slim however, since we learned during our visit, that Mark Bittman has already listed this place as one of his "favorite restaurants in the world." Chow.

Two Things to Know about Genoa

2008-12-03T08:51:00.000-08:00

1. Allegedly, jeans originated in Genoa (bleu de Genes en francais, minus accent marks that I cannot locate on this computer). While this legend may or may not be true, my spouse and I stopped by a very intriguing exhibit about jeans, in one form at least, at the Museum of the Archdiocese of Genoa. Most of what was contained in the Archdiocese's museum was similar to that which we observed in the Museum of the Treasures of the Cathedral of San Lorenzo (also visited yesterday). Generally, the museums contained (dubious) relics, including one that portended to contain hair from the Virgin Mary and another that supposedly contained the ashes of St. John the Baptist! All of these relics were flashy and gilded. As my spouse put it - virtually all of the objects were contenders for "King of Bling" - a little known award bestowed upon gaudy church relics dating from the Renaissance by one medieval scholar.

In any event, the exhibit we saw distinct from the other artifacts in the galleries. The exhibit was called "The Blue of Genoa" and consisted of about a dozen large paintings on denim fabric. The scenes detailed the passion of Christ and were extraordinarily detailed, considering that the artist only painted with white tempera on the cloth. The one exception to the white/blue color scheme was on a painting of "La Flagellazione" (Italian for "The Flagellazione") where the portions of Christ's body that were taking the worst beating had what appeared to be real dried blood on them. This was rather more realistic than how most icons I've seen in the past few days depicted blood, so I found it somewhat jarring. The scale of these paintings was rather huge. From the way the fabric was cut, it looked like the tapestry-like results would have been displayed from various portions of a cathedral, perhaps during holy week. All in all, this was a great exhibition - if you get the chance to go, don't forget to look at the ceiling...

2. Focaccia. Wow. They say Genoese focaccia is the bomb, and it is. On the way back from the archive today we stopped for a bite and it was crispy but tender inside, oily and salty, and some bites seemed to melt away in my mouth. Given that the weather has still been quite chilly, I have not yet bitten the bullet and tried gelato here. That might have to wait for the warmer climate in Rome. I wonder if they'll have focaccia flavored gelato there?

A Room (Without) A View

2008-12-01T09:01:00.001-08:00

Shortly after returning to Genoa from Florence, I saw the article in the NYT about touring the city as though it were 100 years ago from the perspective of E.M. Forster. Now, I can't say I've read Forster's novel, but the city is indeed crowded with tourists. Despite the crowds, I enjoyed our short stay and am glad we made the journey. Here's what we did:

Friday: We attempted to leave Genoa at 13:00, but due to the incredibly crappy weather, and corresponding train delays, we left at closer to 14:00. To give you an idea of how bad the weather was, Jeff and I had hoped to take a picture of the discarded umbrellas absolutely littering the streets, but it was too cold and too wet for us to even stop to do so. My hands were chilled to the bone after a ten minute walk to the station. Fortunately, our little travel umbrellas are stronger than what the umbrella salesmen sell all over Genoa, so we were able to withstand the winds and brave the rain.

On the train, we transferred at Pisa and saw some lovely (if rainy) Ligurian coast land and Tuscan countryside. We got to Florence in time to check in to our hotel right around 17:00 - only about 30 minutes later than expected. We got a surprisingly nice room for the money we spent (only 65 euro) at Hotel Cestelli. Our room was massive - about 4 times the size of the Genovese room in which we currently live. The bed was also about 4 times as large as the Genovese bed. Aside from the spaciousness, the room was also nicely decorated and the innkeepers - who are Japanese and Italian but met in San Diego - were very, very nice. The room did not, however, come with a view. Our window looked out directly across an alleyway into an industrial-sized kitchen of some local restaurant.

After resting for a bit, we went for a walk around Ponte Vecchio and to Santa Croce where we met up with our amigo CT (name redacted out of courtesy for the fact that said friend dislikes having an Internet presence) and his girlfriend, visiting from Stanford. Thanks to a surly waiter, we had a nice glass of wine from San Gimignano (where CT and his novia had spent Thanksgiving), and then we went to Osteria de'Benci for some... peculiar, but good food for dinner. Once again, the wine was excellent and the cheese plate was incredibly tasty. I have to remember to pair cheese with honey more often when I get home. The primi we ordered (apart from Jeff's pretty traditional round penne-esque pasta with meat sauce) were the strange part of the meal. CT's girlfriend got strawberry risotto - an unexpected pairing, but savory and yummy. CT and I both ordered one of the restaurant's specialties - homemade spaghetti cooked in red wine. The first bite was pretty captivating, but then I think the taste became a little overwhelming. Jeff and I split our secondi - the MASSIVE carbonata di chianina . The waiter brought out a few slabs of steak for us to choose from and we had to send them back until we got one that was just 1 kg. We weren't able to finish the steak, and while I can say with a good degree of certainty that this was an authentically Tuscan experience, I cannot say that I ever want to eat that much of rather charred, yet undercooked meat again. The meal pretty much destroyed us and we were so exhausted that we returned to the hotel immediately afterward.

Saturday - After grabbing a brioche and cafe for breakfast, we started waiting in line for the Uffizi galleries - along with almost every other tourist in Florence. Observing no movement in the line, we called for a reservation, and left for the Duomo. It was amazing. We got tickets to go all the way up to the cupola and the experience was breathtaking - both because of the long climb up several hundred stairs, and because of the frescos, and the views. It may be crowded, but if you find yourself in Florence, go to the Duomo.* Following the Duomo, we went to La Canova di Gustavino for lunch. It was one of the best meals ever. Once I can finally post pictures, I'll explain then.

We walked around for a while longer after lunch, stopped in some bookstores, looked at some churches, and then arrived at the Uffizi. As Mr. FGFC astutely observed, only in Italy, does one pay more for reservations, and then wait in line at the reserved entrance when the other line is moving... [Also, only in Italy are people confused by ATMs to quite the degree of Italians when confronted by a Bancomat. Seriously, these folks are SLOW... and the machine's first language is Italian. What gives?] The Uffizi had some famous art - most notably, the Birth of Venus - but overall the galleries are poorly organized and overcrowded. When we were about ready to call it quits for our visit, we stopped off in a special exhibit of 13th and 14th century Florentine art. This exhibit, in contrast to the rest of the space, was properly curated, cohesive, and fascinating. I loved many of the paintings salvaged from churches - particularly those detailing the lives of the saints - and the relic of San Someone... It contained the saints entire radius AND ulna.

Following a rest back at the hotel, we found an Internet cafe. The proprietor had a dog and was even more surly than the waiter at the wine bar. I'll let Mr. FGFC tell that story. The Internet trip was successful and after walking around some more, looking at more old stuff, we met CT for dinner again at a pizzeria popular with the locals. The pizza was quite good as was the cheap house wine and the desserts - I had panna cotta with frutti di bosce. We lingered and chatted over dinner and then returned again to the hotel for a second blissful night of sleep in the humongous bed.

Sunday: On Sunday, it was raining again. Tant pis for the marathoners - it was the Firenze marathon, in addition to being our last day in Florence. We had only a little time before our train was scheduled to leave at 11:30, so we dropped off our bagagli at the train station and grabbed breakfast and looked at more art. At the left luggage station, I saw my first visibly crazy Italian person. Since then, I've seen the dude who wears CDs around his neck several times in Genoa, but this was my first crazy man in Firenze. He was wearing (p)leather pants, lots of jewelry, and seemed to camp out in the left luggage station all day to chat with the gentlemen who worked there.

For our last day, we decided to go the Galleria dell'Accademia, home of the David. Security at the Galleria was considerably more lax than at the Uffizi. No questions about my knitting needles here. Compared to the Uffizi, the Galleria wins, hands down. The collection is more manageable. David is really huge. His hands and feet are especially imposing, but what they say about big feet is not borne out with David. I read somewhere, that apparently, true to size wangs were not considered artistically appropriate or polite back in the day. Once again, the one exhibit of Florentine art at the Galleria was our favorite part of this museum. The vibrant colors of some of the religious triptychs were astounding as were the depictions of the passion and the emotions of the saints.

We pretty much headed straight back to the train station after the Galleria so there is little else to report. Since this has been my longest blog post ever and my dear spouse needs the computer, I'll sign off here.

* If you have a serious fear of heights or are prone to intense bouts of claustrophobia, skip it only then.

Firenze

2008-11-29T09:49:00.000-08:00

We are in Florence, where keyboards have oddly placed shift keys.

So far we have seen the Duomo, the Uffizi Galleries, and had a truly phenomenal meal. Jeffàs best in Italy so far (mine too).

Now we are off to meet Corey for some pizza, more updates later.

First Dinner in Genoa

2008-11-27T04:00:00.001-08:00

The internet - named "alice" - or as Jeff says, "ah-lee-chay," does not like to work in his apartment. He and I are thus unable to post pictures of my first dinner in Italy and of his Fibonacci scarf. Fibonacci, incidentally, was Italian and may have been from Pisa. What an appropriate scarf pattern.

Despite the inability to post pictures, I will, as promised, write a bit about our meal. We went to a place called "I Tre Merli," which means "three blackbirds." [Jeff's dictionary said "zoo. blackbird" - but apparently "zoo" is just an abbreviation for zoological.]

Our meal started with a nice aperitif of a crisp, sparkling, white wine. Jeff and I both thought it was pretty tasty. We ordered a cheese plate to start. Having been burned by the tiny cheese plate selections in some SF restaurants, I was expecting a small portion, but this was a MASSIVE (Jeff says "substantial") cheese platter. One was delicious and truffle-y and spotted and somewhat grey, one was creamy and blue, one was somewhat harder and might have had mushrooms in it, one was somewhat soft and tangy and white, and one was a little creamy and also delicious. All of them were scrumptious actually and they were served with yummy bread, mustard, honey, and walnuts.

For the primi - I had some hazelnut lasagna noodles with pesto and potatoes and green beans. Very good, very filling. I thought the pesto was excellent, but mostly unintelligible as authentically "Genoese." Jeff had ravioli with "cheesy and maybe some fishy stuff" along with mussels on top with tomatoes. The mussels were bombtastic. Jeff convinced me to order a secondi - which was FAR too much food. He had a dried cod stew. Jeff ordered it because it's a Genoese specialty, but found it "serviceable," although the olives were tasty. My "cioppin" seafood soup was very tasty - especially the mussels and the giant shrimp. Overall, if the various dishes in our meal had been in a gladiator fight, the cheese plate and my pesto pasta would have been the victors.

We were too stuffed for dessert, but I am baking a pumpkin pie tonight. Hopefully it will turn out, the oven does not have a working temperature gauge... Happy Thanksgiving!

In Genoa, In Small, Girly Room

2008-11-26T06:14:00.000-08:00

I have arrived safely in Genoa. Jeff met me in the oldest, most 1970s style airport I've ever seen. Although I noticed two men in military dress just standing around, I otherwise noted no security and just walked off the plane, grabbed my luggage, and lo and behold, I was in Italy.

On the flight from Munich to Genoa, Lufthansa had passed us off to some low budget regional Italian airline called Air Massimo or Dolmathes (?) or something. The flight attendants were twenty-something Italians with bleach blond hair, lots of makeup, and polyester teal skirt suits. The suits were something else. Although the flight attendant spoke English to the portly British gentleman seated in front of me, she seemed to insist on speaking Italian to me, despite the fact that I answered in English or with "gratze" - assuming that meant thank you. I guess I look Italian, despite not having bleach blond hair or sporting a polyester suit.

As for other fashion observations, most men on my flight wore suits. I don't know whether this is something I can generalize about all Italian men, or if I was just flying with primarily business dudes. Also, there seems to be a real trend among these men to wear scarves with vertical stripes - knitted lengthwise - instead of horizontal stripes. I hope that Mr. Misfit is not feeling too gauche with his awesome , horizontally striped, fibonacci scarf around here.

Regarding the title of this post, Mr. Misfit shares his apartment with four young Italian college students. I met the youngest two, who speak no English, this afternoon. They are quite adorable and named Carola and Carolina. So far I cannot tell them apart, but they are very sweet. While I was washing lunch dishes we were somehow able to communicate the fact that Carol(in)a was going to take a shower so the bathroom would be occupied. I suppose the shower may get crowded with six people in the apartment so I'll have to ask Jeff how to communicate the same thing later on. Before Senor Jeff moved in, another girl, who, judging from the decor, had a penchant for dance movies (Grease, Dirty Dancing and "Strictly Come Dancercize*") and cats, lived here. Now we are living here, and it is pretty hilarious so far.

Now that I've slept twelve hours, had some lunch with Jeff and Ben, and Jeff is at the archives for the release of some website compiling 13th century stuff, after I finish blogging I will read and knit until Jeff comes home. Then I think I'll see some of Genoa, eat dinner, and sleep again. More adventures to come when I acclimate to the time difference. Should I get bored while Jeff is archiving it up, I may just report on this Dancersize video...

Reflections on Munich

2008-11-25T09:45:00.001-08:00

So, if I were Sarah Palin, I would talk about my vast experience in Germany based on the 4 hour layover I am spending here in Munich. Instead of claiming that level of foreign policy experience, I will share the following observations about Deutschland. From them I will likely make sweeping generalizations about Germans and Germany:

1. The airport is oddly quiet. Despite having marble/hardwood floors, everyone is hushed and civil. Germans are quiet (but seemingly talk fast). One notable exception is the young couple sitting behind me who recently broke into song. It was peppy, pop-music, no Uber Alles, in case you were curious.
2. The Internet speaks German. Germans speak German. QED.
3. Various cigarette makers sponsor "Smoking Zones" - which are like stationary revolving doors in which people stand around and puff away. So far, Camel seems to be the most popular sponsor of these cubicles.
4. Instead of the paper public toilet seat covers so prevalent in California (and oddly not found in the Midwest), German toilets have sanitizer that you're supposed to spray on toilet paper and use to wipe down the seat. I find this strangely intrusive - perhaps "too" clean. Also, the toilet paper comes in sheets, not in rolls, and each toilet has a brush sitting to the right side of the bowl. This overacheiving cleanliness somehow also strikes me as foul. I shudder to think at all the germs crawling on those brushes. Germany is, perhaps, not as clean as you would think.
5. There is not a drinking fountain to be found in this place. Has Germany no public water fountains?? I should write to Angela Merkel about this outrage.
6. Janitors ride Segways!!!

Ciao Spaghetti!

2008-11-24T17:20:00.000-08:00

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go, I'm just waiting around for (not so) Super Shuttle to come pick me up and take me to SFO. According to Blogger, this is my 101st post on this piece of interweb terrain and it will be my last in the US of A for a month.

To help me remember my journeys, I hope to post something on here most days, internet access permitting. To fulfill requests, expect photos of food and reviews of the pasta and gelato I consume. Depending on how things pan out, I may start a contest among the readership of "For God and Cheese" to see who can come closest to guessing the number of pounds that I gain as a result of being in Italy. It remains to be seen whether I'll actually want to divulge that information.

I'm sure I'll also have adventures to report from old churches, hikes, cafes, Pompeii, a famous ossuary, old churches, museums, and more old churches. To fulfill another request, I'll also write a bit about my attempt to learn Spanish, while in Italy and the Czech Republic. This should be interesante and might be ill-advised. In addition to my language studies and copious eating I also plan to knit like the wind for all the babies that my friends and family will soon be bringing into the world. Perhaps by the time I return I will also absorb a bit of Italian and will be able to say more than the title of this post.

There Should Really be a Word for That...

2008-03-16T23:36:00.001-07:00

Well, it's been a packed couple of weeks since I last posted. The bruises from my experience as a rice bowl have finally faded and I've purchased rain boots to never again repeat the disgusting soaked sneakers feeling of the 2008 Chinese NY Parade. Since I last wrote, my parents also paid me a visit during which we had several fun and exciting adventures, my dear friend from law school came to town and we also had a blast, I went on one of the best hikes of my life, I learned a little something about computer forensic investigations, and I purchased a suh-weet cupcake carrier. I will never again lug around a heavy baking dish on MUNI which permits the cupcakes I baked to slide around, thus smooshing their frosting. Now, my cupcakes will be secure in a high-tech cupcake carrier with a handle. Fierce.

I might write about some or all of those things in more detail at a later date, but for now I want to put together the first of what might be a series of "regularly" or "sporadically" occurring entries. This feature, known around "For God and For Cheese" as, "There should really be a word for that..." will expound on a concept or phenomenon which no single word currently describes. Readers, feel free to offer suggestions for succinct words to describe these phenomena if you wish.

The debut entry in this category actually comes from two of my pals who explained this to me recently. Picture this: upon returning to bed at night, after getting up from sleeping to get a drink of water or take a whizz, when you return to bed you flip the pillow upon which you have been sleeping over. The reverse side of the pillow is cool and inviting.*

There should really be a word for that, the cool side of the pillow. "Chillow?"

* Note: the "chillow," if you will, is not always inviting. When it's cold out, for example, in the dead of winter in a crappy student apartment in Hyde Park, the "chillow" is detested and avoided at all costs.

I Choo Choo Choose You

2008-02-24T21:44:00.001-08:00

These little kids *almost* endeared me to the T-Line.

I also got FREE PANTS!

2008-02-24T21:42:00.001-08:00

Sporty Rice

2008-02-24T21:38:00.000-08:00

My hips are currently covered in bruises. My running shoes may never quite recover from being as drenched as they were last night. But downsides aside, I had a blast as a Rice Bowl in the Chinese New Year Parade yesterday. I even made off with a sweet sweatshirt with a big rat on it, courtesy of Southwest Airlines. Thanks to C L-W for coordinating and Happy New Year!

Lenten Meditation

2008-02-21T22:09:00.000-08:00

Figures that the Lenten Meditation I wrote for my church features my tendency to complain about MUNI. It is one of my favorite pastimes. The prompt for this reflection was: "Who do you say that I am?--the simple complexity of Christ:"

I'm not much of a pray-er. I tend to be more of a complainer. If you know me, you might know that I'm especially adept at complaining about MUNI. When the T-Line first started running last April, the folks who answer the phones at 3-1-1 knew me by name. In any event, it is perhaps part of my nature that I don't spend my mornings doing devotions and I pray at night only rarely. After all, I spend the rest of my day griping, which crowds out time to praise God, thank God for anything, much less pray for anything.

Last Friday, for the first time in a long while I found myself in a state of almost constant prayer. I was observing a hearing for a client I care very much about and unjust and aggravating things were happening right under my nose. I couldn't say anything to complain or object and I felt completely impotent.

What could I do? Finally, I realized I could pray. I just kept repeating phrases from hymns and trying to pray for strength for my client and compassion and wisdom from the commissioners in charge. Although things at this hearing did not turn out the way I think they should have, I left with a greater sense of peace than I would have thought possible.

Reflecting on this experience today, a co-worker shared the following verse with me:

If you see the poor oppressed in a district, and justice and rights denied, do not be surprised at such things; for one official is eyed by a higher one, and over them both are others higher still. - Ecclesiastes 5:8

My fighting spirit causes me to see injustice in a lot of places and I get pretty worked up about it a lot of the time. Typically, my anger gets me nowhere. (Especially with MUNI.) Recognizing the simple truth in this verse, that everyone answers to someone higher than themselves - ultimately God - provided me with some much needed perspective. Even when advocacy fails and no one seems to be listening for the truth, greater things are at play.

So, "Who do you say I am?" An advocate who listens and understands.

I Endorse Obama

2008-02-21T21:52:00.000-08:00

I contemplated using one of the catchy Obamania phrases like "Barack the Vote" or "Obama for Your Mama" as the title of this post, but frankly, I wanted to get to the point. I endorse Obama, and here's why.

First, because I'm rarely good at getting to the point, here's a bit of back story. On Super Tuesday, my friend Swerds was eating lunch outside his office and was approached by local newscasters for comments about who he voted for in the primary. Being the eloquent dude that he is, Swerds made an insightful comment about the war and why he chose Obama over Clinton. I realized after talking with Swerds that I had no such pithy remarks prepared and would have babbled incoherently if a microphone were thrust in my face. So without getting into policy points, here's why I voted for Obama this month, and hope to vote for Obama in November:

1. Obama is more than an effective orator. He has ignited a nation of politically apathetic people, especially young people. Yes, actions speak louder than words, but I am truly impressed by Obama's background. I want a President who was a community organizer on the South Side of Chicago; I want a President who taught constitutional law; I want a President who inspires me.
2. More importantly, I think that Obama has the potential to undo years of divisiveness and rancor in this country. In my opinion, Clinton's got an incredible uphill battle in that respect and I still have massive doubts about what shenanigans her husband pulled in terms of welfare "reform" when he was in the White House pandering to the Republicans. I realize that other people applaud former Pres. Clinton for PRWORA and might call him an effective coalition builder, but I choose to put my hope in Obama this time around.
3. I've only voted in two presidential elections. Both were embarrassing failures on so many levels. Both times, I voted against something (someone, some principles) instead of for something and someone I believed in. Either way things turn out, in November, I am going to be excited to vote for the Democratic nominee. Provided it's Obama though, I am going to be elated.

Foodies

2008-02-18T21:55:00.000-08:00

In an effort to put more content on this blog, I've decided to start cross posting. Hence, you'll be able to find this review on my Goodreads page too.

I just finished tearing through "Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen," by Julie Powell. It was a raucous read and very enjoyable for someone who loves experimenting in the kitchen and just recently started to rebound from her own prolonged self-pity party.

I realized, after reading it, that I've been on a bit of a "schtick" kick with my non-fiction reads lately. It started with "A Year of Living Biblically" and continued onto "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle." (I suppose "Eat, Pray, Love" was in somewhat the same vein as well.) Julie/Julia is also a gimmick, the deal is this woman who was on the eve of her 30th birthday, working in a depressing job, decided to take on a project to cook her way through the entire oeuvre of Volume I of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" or as she calls it "MtAoFC." In so doing, she transformed her life and got this book deal after her blog about the project got super popular. (Not to worry any dear readers, I have no such aspirations!)

What I did get from this book though was a good report on kitchen adventures, a candid look at self-absorption and hilarity, and the story of how great friendships withstand low times and grow only stronger. It was great... it also caused me to make crepes at around 10:30 PM last night. Then I had crepes for dessert while watching "35 Up" last night, crepes for breakfast this morning (sort of blintz style with IKEA lingonberry jam and yogurt), and because my craving was (apparently) insatiable, two crepes for dinner tonight at Ti Couz - savory and sweet. I better cut back on the crepe intake tomorrow or you'll be able to roll me down the street just like I plan to roll up another crepe for breakfast manana.

In other news... I repotted some plants today. I ruined my favorite black cardigan by vigorously cleaning my bathroom. The super-heavy duty scary shower cleaner necessitated opening the window and turning on the fan so as to avoid killing too many brain cells or passing out due to the fumes. It was freezing cold in the bathroom as a result so I kept the cardi on and bleached the right sleeve completely. The elbow is now an unattractive neon coral color. It looks sort of like hypercolor gone terribly wrong.

This morning I threw a minor fit at Radio Shack when the aggravating sales associate refused to process the headset I bought to use while Skyping for a return, because he couldn't find the bar code. I bought it two days ago, had the receipt, and was so annoyed! Turns out the lesson to be learned from this is that my tantrums are best avoided since I realized I can send the headphones to Mr. Dirteens since they'll work with his laptop. Woohoo! No money lost here.

Spring

2008-02-17T14:23:00.000-08:00

I live in a neighborhood that's still off the beaten path in SF. I'll admit I often get a smug sense of cool satisfaction when people are surprised to learn that there is, in fact, a neighborhood called the Dogpatch and I live in it. Here, there are three-flats with units like the one J and I share, barely detached single family homes some of which are lovely and others that are decaying, industrial and artistic businesses, warehouses, housing projects up the hill, and an increasing number of pricey lofts. We've got restaurants too (some of which are better than others, see my yelp reviews), an excellent pilates studio, and a boxing gym. The Dogpatch is gentrifying rapidly.

Still, the 'hood looks rather gritty in places. Walking to church, however, this morning, past a dingy motorcycle repair shop, a strange printing press, and an abandoned fire station, the street was lined with trees filled with pale pink blossoms. A hummingbird, a real live hummingbird was flitting about some of the branches.

This was an unexpected gift to me: a delicate, shimmering, whimsical creature going about its business pollinating or whatever it does on Tennessee Street. Finding such an anomale gave me great joy and a sense of wonder. I'm so grateful for having seen it.

I only hope that these new lofts won't displace the Dogpatch's resident hummingbird.

I'm Back

2008-02-16T12:55:00.001-08:00

By way of update, a lot has happened since April. Chiefly, I'm a Mrs. My last name changed. I cut off my hair. I'm learning how to drive and knit. I took my first deposition. I'm paying off my debt. I am back to attending church regularly and even serving as a quasi-elder, which is somewhat entertaining.

One of the most recent changes is that my marital property is off in Italia doing his dissertation research and as a bachelorette again for the next six weeks I thought I'd try to revive this blog. Since the Mr. is also back to travel blogging, this should also provide a good way for us to stay in better, and public, virtual contact.

As a note to self and, I suppose, to anyone who still reads this - I've also got plans to update my sidebar links at some future date so you all can see what I've been reading, listening to, and so that I can link to some of my pals' blogs.

"T" is for "TROUBLE"

2007-04-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

But "L" for "Livid" better describes my mood right now.

On April 7th MUNI finally started running full service on the new Third Street “T-Line.” This train is less than 50 yards from my apartment and has been heralded as the train that will bring “new life” to the Southeastern portion of the city and its many poor and underserved neighborhoods. While these predictions about “revitalization/gentrification” may eventually come to pass, currently the T-Line appears to be a total boondoggle.

When I moved to the Dogpatch, public transportation was unreliable but relatively plentiful. Two bus lines within two blocks connected my neighborhood to the rest (West) of the city. One bus line, the notoriously smelly and unpredictable #15 (R.I.P), was my connection North or South. While the #15 was still running I had my share of problems with the bus. Like the Jeffrey Express (#6) of my days of yore in Chicago, or bands of wild canines, the #15 was prone to run in packs. I would wait for what felt like hours for one bus only for two to three buses to arrive all at once. This was particularly frustrating during the morning commute to work. Still, I don’t think I ever waited longer than 25 minutes. Vespertine rides on the #15 were sometimes shady, but service was mostly even and I could get home from work within 15 minutes provided the Giants weren’t playing or some huge company wasn’t hosting their annual conference and closing down streets. The only real problems I ever had with ol’ #15 occurred on Saturday mornings when I was trying to get to the gym. Since the #15 ran less frequently on weekends than weekdays – Saturday mornings were PACKED. The bus was sometimes so crowded that passengers could hardly breathe and if someone had tried to steal something from your bag, you wouldn’t have been able to tell.

Now, with the advent of the T-Line, the #15 is nothing but a bittersweet memory. Better-smelling, shiny light rail cars have replaced the T-Line. The tradeoff is a moderate improvement in predictability since (in theory) satellite technology alerts riders to the approximate arrival time of the next train. Other tradeoffs, however, include increased crowding, abysmal timing, long waits at the end of the work day, and non-existent trains on weekends.

Cases in point: (1) I waited for more than 30 minutes for a train home at 6:00 PM this past Thursday. A commute that used to range between 15-30 minutes took more than an hour. As a test, I walked to work (2.5 miles) from home the next morning, chatting on the phone with my sister, stopped for a cup of coffee, and still made it door-to-door in 35 minutes. Pathetic. (2) When I woke up on Saturday morning I checked on "Next Muni" for the approximate arrival of the next T-train that would bring me within a few blocks of my gym. [Dear #15 used to provide door-to-door service for me but the T-Line lets me off about a half-mile away – so I have to get up earlier to hit “yogalates” these days.] On “Next Muni” there was NO explanation but an indication that NO trains were running North on the T-Line. MUNI had provided no warning about this complete shut-down so I set off to walk, in the rain, to the gym. Along the way I found a mysterious “shuttle” bus which ran an unscripted route along 2nd Street. Terrible.

In sum, I think my fuming is partly personal because I’m suffering from a change that has gone far less smoothly than I expected. I’m also outraged though on behalf of my neighborhood and the poorer and more underserved areas south of it. From the Dogpatch if I look up the hill ancient pastel housing projects with plywood windows look down on pricey new lofts. A burgeoning commuter neighborhood, the Patch and Potrero, are home to a good many Caltrain riders and drivers who commute to Silicon Valley. Still, those of us who commute within the city on public transportation are getting the short end of the stick. MUNI should have considered how eliminating the only north-south transportation option and replacing it with another inferior alternative would affect residents in my ‘hood. I moved here too late to have a say in the process, but I will register my dissent now.

I suppose it’s time to learn how to drive.

Meat Loaf: Codified

2007-03-24T22:00:00.000-07:00

I paged past this the other day while doing some legal research about parole hearings.

Title 15 California Code of Regulations Section 1247
(a) A disciplinary isolation diet that is nutritionally balanced may be served to an inmate...
(b) The disciplinary diet loaf shall consist of the following:
2-1/2 oz. nonfat dry milk
4-1/2 oz. raw grated potato
3 oz. grated carrots, chopped or grated fine
1-1/2 oz. tomatoe juice or puree
4-1/2 oz. raw cabbage, chopped fine
7 oz. lean ground beef, turkey, or rehydrated, canned, or frozen Textured Vegetable Protein (TVP)
2-1/2 fl. oz. oil
1-1/2 oz. whole wheat flour
1/4 tsp. salt
4 tsp. raw onion, chopped
1 egg
6 oz. dry red beans, pre-cooked before baking (or 16 oz. canned or cooked red kidney beans)
4 tsp. chili powder

Shape into a loaf and bake at 350-375 degrees for 50-70 minutes.

"Here Lies Peperony and Chease"

2006-10-10T21:46:00.000-07:00

Last Friday night Mr. Future Marital Property and I spent one of the nerdiest nights in history at home. First, we watched an episode of NUMB3RS in which Charlie totally solved an international art heist/murder/Nazi looting case with... calculus!

Then, as though that weren't nerdy enough, we found an online link to the game of my childhood, Oregon Trail. In eighth grade, when I was taking math at the high school, I would return to my junior high in the middle of second period. I and my fellow math nerds were confined to the library until third period started. Everyday, during that interim we played Oregon Trail.

The site we found emulates the colors on the screen, the music when you visit the landmarks on the trail, the hunting (darn those skittish squirrels and our pathetic ability to carry only 100 pounds of meat), and the insanely slow speed of the old game. It brought me right back to that musty, Anwatin library with the seventies carpeting and dingy books. In this nifty new web version, instead of crawling along at a snail's pace, you can select to play the game at slightly faster paces. This feature makes for some very speedy ventures across the territories. So, go on, be a carpenter, shoot some buffalo, and ford that river!

Animals, Associate-land, and an Agitating Event

2006-10-05T19:09:00.000-07:00

Howdy-doo potentially still faithful readers. I've been more remiss than (possibly) ever before about posting to my blog. This time, I offer no excuses. I'll just launch right in. Stream of consciousness.

It's no secret to my friends (or to readers of this blog (see 9/30/05 entry)) that I don't like animals. However, I've realized in the past few days that I might need to keep this information more private.* I'm guessing that some people don't have the same poodle-phobia as I do. Perhaps I've even mentioned how poodles scare me in the presence of a poodle owner. Some people probably even think that it's cruel and disturbing that I don't like animals.** Sort of like how I find it strange when people say they don't like children. Heck, animal rights activists are surely disgusted that I drink milk, or (gasp) eat beef. Anyway, I'm going to try and keep this distaste more private from now on in conversation.**

In other news, I've started work. For now I feel like I'm pretending to be a lawyer. Pretending to be a grown-up. It feels eerily similar to when my sister and I used to play "school." Generally in those days, because I am the elder sister, I would play the teacher. I didn't really have much to teach, nor did I have any training whatsoever, but I assumed the responsibility. I guess it's time to do the same thing now.

Finally, I've shared this story with a few people but thought I'd put it out here in case there are any other comments or viewpoints I haven't yet received. The other day I was waiting to cross the street on my nearest corner to catch the bus and head to work. At the corner, where there is a saloon, a man was standing outside the door to the bar. I've seen him around before. He is evidently homeless and possibly schizophrenic. I make these assumptions because he's usually talking to himself, his clothes are worn, and he doesn't have shoes.

On this particular morning, this man said "Hello" to me and then started repeating "Hello, Robin." [Why "Robin?" Who knows?] I smiled, in his direction, and then turned to cross the street. Adjacent to me, but on the other side of the street I had noticed a police car. To avoid jaywalking in the presence of the police, I patiently waited to cross until the light changed. Just before I was able to cross, and as my bus was approaching, an officer came out of the car and started yelling at this man. With profanities omitted for my dear reaaders, the officer told him to stop bothering me and to get out and move on his way. Understandably, the man on the corner was startled and intimidated. The situation/power imbalance, worsened when the other officer came out and started saying the same things.

In part because I needed to catch my bus, in part because I was dumbfounded, I crossed the street and left the scene without saying anything. I don't know exactly what I would have said. I also don't know what had transpired earlier that day. Perhaps this man on the corner had actually created problems in the neighborhood.

What it looked like to me though, was a show of force to sweep "unwanted" people off the streets of our rapidly gentrifying neighborhood. It appeared to be a tactic whereby the police would incite a reaction from the person they were targeting, allowing them to arrest the person or remove them from the area. No matter what, it was deeply unsettling. Have I over, or underreacted?

* Note the irony: I'm publicizing my dislike on the Internet before shutting up in regular conversation.
** See exception for baby beluga whales below.

Memories... I can smile at the old days.

2006-08-14T20:36:00.000-07:00

My neighborhood is bizarre. This thought is never far from my mind while I'm at home, but two nights ago it became even clearer. That incident, coupled with the fact that Mr. Island of Misfit Toys and I have found a place in SF and are soon to leave this neighborhood behind, has inspired me to put together an impartial list of what I'll remember and (in some cases) even miss about this Lorin District of mine.

[in no particular order]

1. The cacophony that is the drum circle at the Hash-by Bart.

2. The ice cream truck that can only play that one, oddly familiar, but extremely annoying song.

3. The business hippies, oh the business hippies. It must be hard living the indie-rock-art life in this run down neighborhood with daddy paying your rent while you drive his old Lexus that's tragically missing a hub cap.

4. "De Thang" (the sweet black cadillac down the block with the quotation as its vanity plate) and "Mo Thang" (the massive black van down the block with this quotation as its vanity plate). The owners of these two vehicles, awesome in their own right, have a spectacular jazz band that practices Tuesday night. I will miss their weekly practice sessions and the crowd that's started to gather on their steps to listen to the free show. I'll also miss my roommate's phone calls when he was home and I was out and Mo Thang was driving down our street. The totality of his call, "MO THANG ON THE MOVE." Then he would hang up.

5. El Nopal, your food, rather crappy, but ever so cheap.

6. Lois the Pie Queen. I will miss your gritty grits, your bacon, your egg salad sandwiches, and especially your lemony ice box pie.

7. The Bowl. I'm torn up about this one. Too sad to write an adequate adieu.

8. The Berkeley Tool Lending Library, and its neighbor, the Thai Temple Brunch. What a combo!

9. The kind and friendly grandma who lives down the street and cheered for me and Rordog when we were in our graduation robes on the way to the bus that took us to Commencement.

10. And finally, the incident I mentioned above involving an axe wielding neighbor. The other night, Jotina, Rordog, and Misfit and I went on a walk to the corner store (where, incidentally a drunken woman once grabbed my butt) in search of Reddi-Wip for the pumpkin pie I had baked. Berkeley Bowl's inferior Berkeley Farms whipped cream had betrayed us. Its product had no "wip," so to speak. Most likely some kid had already depleted its nitrous stores before I even purchased the can.

In any event, on our way down Woolsey, this crazed blond man walked up along side us. He was muttering to himself and, slung across his shoulder, was a sawed off electric guitar. His axe. He asked us if we had seen a guy in a t-shirt, wearing a hat, riding a blue mountain bike. He informed us that the police were looking for him.

Evidently, this poor soul's bike had been stolen and to wreak his revenge, he was going to wail on him with his axe. To our relief, this man proceeded on his way and left us alone to complete our mission. Our mission failed, the convenience store carries more in the way of alcohol, pork rinds, cigarettes, and canned chili. Even without the whipped cream, we were happy to have escaped unscathed.

Me: "My senses are filled up right now."

2006-08-11T22:51:00.000-07:00

Response: "Must be the taco."

Today my two friends and I went on the aforementioned taco quest. It turned out to be more than a simple taco expedition. The adventure was a resounding success and turned into a mini-road trip replete with Americana, lengua, and breathtaking views.

We headed off for Pescadero, CA at around 4pm. To experience the longest (?) Bay Area bridge, we took the San Mateo, and arrived in tiny Pescadero from Hwy 1. Hwy 1 was scenic, as its signs suggest. The sky was grey and matched the color of the ocean. Only the tiniest sliver of sunshine broke on the waves, far out, near the horizon.

In Pescadero we missed the taqueria on first pass. The taqueria is quite literally in the gas station and no signs mark its location. Fortunately, we doubled back and found it next to the cash register at the only gas station in town (regular gas: $3.49/gallon!!)

To my chagrin, there were no tamales dulce. To A (my mascot)'s disappointment, they were also out of cabeza and ojos. We ordered two fish tacos, one lengua, one al pastor, one carne asada, and the carnitas. Dear God, the carnitas. The carnitas reigned supreme. The pork was juicy, perfectly charred to a crisp on the fatty bits, and bursting with flavor. Paired with the jalapenos/carrots, cilantro, and salsa, this taco was unbelievably good. I also enjoyed the chips, which I thought were perfectly salty, rather oily, and nice and thin.

We dined next to seemingly local teens and a local family discussing quinceaneras. The atmosphere was very small town and friendly. I felt like a total idiot when my cell phone rang. Hello? Not cool.

Post-mountaintop taco experience, we headed across the street to Duarte's Tavern. This place is o-l-d and well-established. We were totally full from the tacos and ordered only pie and coffee. Between the olallieberry and the strawberry rhubarb the olallieberry won. At first I was skeptical about the crust. It looked kind of thick and prone to being dense and dry. I was pleasantly mistaken and found the whole thing to be kind of toasty flavored, light, and flaky.

Duarte's would be a good place to hit up for dinner or lunch. It won (what appears to be) a pretty phenomenal award three years ago: the James Beard Foundation Award - granted to only four restaurants a year! Duarte's also has a tavern in back complete with fake leather stools and swinging doors.

More to be continued...

No, I was not on a cruise

2006-08-10T23:05:00.000-07:00

But, I have partaken of at least 4 buffets in the past 2 weeks.

Yes, between Vegas and Chicago I've recently eaten quite well. In Vegas, it was more that I ate a lot. Quantity not quality. While in Vegas, however, I did manage to eat at Lotus of Siam. Little Lo is a member of my favorite class of restaurant. Class members are usually located, like Lotus, in a seedy strip mall next to a wig shop. Lotus looks like the type of place one would be wiser to forgo. Inside, multilingual reviews of the Lotus' supreme mastery of Thai cuisine papered the entryway. The reviews did not betray. Something larb-like was excellent and the pad see ew was perfection. The wide noodles had a texture no other restaurant I've been to has attained and the tofu in the dish was delicate and somewhat sweet. To top it all off, we had an amazing (but somewhat expensive) Thai desert trio of a coconut sorbet (disappointingly granular texture), what I considered to be a deep-fried banana twinkie, or more appropriately a banana egg roll, and some spectacular mango sticky rice. The banana egg roll was good, but I would travel back for the mango sticky rice. That, dear readers, is saying something. I have reached my Vegas saturation point, and I don't see myself returning soon. Nevertheless, when I think of that rice, I consider checking SWA for cheap flights...

In Chicago, I had a fabulous bachelorette party meal at Sapori Trattoria in Lincoln Park. My dear friend's sister treated us to kir royales, a memorable appetizer with portobello mushrooms and some really really decadent bread pudding. My favorite entree was the equally decadent butternut squash ravioli. A lot of restaurants won't serve that dish year-round. For traditionalist reasons they confine (or rather, imprison it) to colder seasons. The emphasis in this particular ravioli was on the butter. I appreciated that as a butter devotee. The ravioli was sweet, nutty, crispy (was that pine nuts?) and yumtastic. Service at Sapori was also top notch.

The next night in Chicago, my sister, her main squeeze, and his roommate took me to Polish-town on Milwaukee Avenue. While there I saw what appeared to be the nicest laundromat... ever. It was next door to the Red Apple (aka Czerwone Jabluszko) Restaurant. My hunch is that the Red Apple owners also manage the laundromat. The laundromat was very clean and had a tiered tray of free (that's right, free) desserts out for the taking. These desserts were both free and looked awesome. At the Red Apple our awesome waitress pushed us to order beer (the Polish nickname for the brand is O.K., and it was, O.K.). The buffet, for $8.99 (weekend rate) was rad. The meaty pierogies were scrumptious and I enjoyed the apple pancakes as well. The meat and potato varieties were also good, I'm afraid I can't describe the dishes since the restaurant was not so accomodating to us non-Poles as to place names near the buffet trays. Despite that minor pitfall (and with the exhortation to step away from the fruit tray - the plums were bruised and mushy, food looked spoiled), I wholeheartedly recommend the Red Apple.*

Before I sign off, some of you may be wondering, why has Dirteens spent an entire post discussing food? What's up with that? Well, on the one hand, tomorrow I'm replicating part of the recent NYT taco quest feature [see "Chasing the Perfect Taco"]. In Pescadero, I hope to try a pineapple tamale, some tacos with scary meats in them, and track down some olallieberry pie. On the other hand, I'm trying to avoid thinking about wedding planning and fuming about my recent denial of short-term health insurance. Apparently, if you take any prescription medication (i.e., asthma inhaler) you are categorically denied short-term coverage by Blue Cross.

I digress.

The real inspiration for all of this was the newly revamped Chowhound site. I visited Chowhound every now and then before the onset of the Bar. Post-Bar I returned to find that the site had sold out, but to my surprise and glee, it is much easier to navigate these days and conducive to hours of browsing. Good times.

* Eating at the Red Apple brought back many happy memories of the Pierogi Fest in Whiting, IN. You really must go. In addition to the widest variety of dumplings this side of heaven, you can take your picture (for FREE) with Mr. Pierogi and Mr. Kielbasa. Now that is a treat. And while I'm on the subject of weird festivals and events... if you weren't at the Anvil Drop at Gardner Hardware in Mpls, MN today, you missed out. I may plan my wedding around it next year.

this really cheered me up today

2006-07-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

And brought back memories of one of my favorite childhood tunes, "Baby Beluga". Perhaps I will rock out to some Raffi tonight. Seeing these pictures also made me realize that I actually do like whales. This presents quite an exception to my usual disdain for non-human members of the animal kingdom.

my solemn promise to you, dear readers

2006-07-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

I swear, that after this marathon of study is over, I will refrain from posting about boring topics like weird bar vocabulary and test preparation. For now, however, since I do nothing else but study, eat, work out, and sleep, I bring you the most recent Gmail ad displayed for my account.

A Bar Exam Must-Have for Everything you Need for Exam Day!

At first I thought it might include chocolate, a flask for chugging whiskey after the exam is over, or Adavan. Instead, some Colorado company has taken to creating exam-day kits for Colorado Bar examinees. Too bad they use a digital clock [tsk-tsk] and include snacks. There's no eating and only analog clocks here in California. The fun times never end here in the Golden State.

Also, I recently found an old SNL "Deep Thoughts" postcard from my dearest friend Helly. She sent it to me way back in Junior High and I've saved it all these years. It seems particularly relevant now as I work on detestable MBE questions:

Instead of having different answers on a math test, they should just call them "impressions," and if you got a different impression, so what? Can't we all be brothers?

Whoa, Woe.

2006-06-20T23:40:00.000-07:00

To paraphrase the always eloquent Roberto - "woe is the [Bar]. woe are... readers [of blogs about the Bar]. woe be all up in the hood. many weeks of woe. much boredom with woe of [essay writing]. no easement of the woe to be found in the [Bar blogs]. woe are the [Bar blogs]."

Seriously, people are psyching themselves out and I foolishly read their blogs this evening. Won't make that mistake again. I hate vicarious stress. Why isn't there strict liability for such crap? Woe indeed.

ATTENTION Lyrical Geniuses: I need your help.

2006-06-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

I've recently started attending this awesome boot-camp type of fitness class at the gym here on campus with my friend E. The instructor has an affinity for funkalicious R&B and pop-reggae tunes. Every day so far, we students have been regaled with the same (entertaining) mix. At the end of the class, the mix features this one hilarious song. I know only a tiny portion of the lyrics but, honest to God, they seem to be, "Shake your B-O-T-Y."

I'm pretty sure that B-O-T-Y is an incorrect spelling of booty, but I suppose one can never be too certain. Does B-O-T-Y mean something I'm unfamiliar with? If not, how could an error this egregious pass by the producer's vigilant ears? I am dying to download this song, but knowing so few lyrics, I can't seem to find it. My Google searches have been unavailing as they suggest KC & the Sunshine Band's famous tune or imply that I am misspelling my inquiry.

Can anyone help this bored bar-taker out?

Also, QUOTE OF THE WEEK, in a thoughtful response to my inability to hang out with a friend: "It's not you being lame, it's the Bar being lame."

Interpretations?

2006-06-18T13:40:00.000-07:00

This weekend, at a fantastic rehearsal dinner at Fat's in Folsom*, I received a very unusual fortune. I think this fortune tops the one my mother used to get in every cookie she ate at the Great Wall in Minneapolis. [Mind you, we ate there often enough to receive Christmas cards from the owners.] Her fortune was, "You will meet a tall, dark woman." My fortune read:

"Alas! The onion you are eating is some else's water lily."

Now, I've never seen a fortune that starts with the word, "Alas." I was a bit startled by that, not to mention the fact that it was followed by a fright-inducing exclamation point. This bit about the lily and onion has me a little stumped. I believe leeks are part of the lily family... Perhaps this has something to do with not wallowing in bitterness and self-pity... Your thoughts?

*My very best wishes to the lovely Lew-Williamses (see above)!

Shame on Me

2006-06-08T22:44:00.000-07:00

I should be reading a Conviser Mini Outline right now but I felt like updating this too-long neglected blog. Besides, if I learned one thing in law school, it was that I can rely on Chemerinksy to teach me anything. Thank God for Chemerinksy I say. Furthermore, TGIF tomorrow.

Before I bore you any further by making a few more unsolicited comments about Bar Review, I do have some newsworthy information to impart. I got engaged two weeks ago! The author of the, even more neglected blog, Island of Misfit Toys, is my fabulous fiance. [He's one witty dude, eh? Perhaps with some prodding from my three faithful readers, he might even start blogging again...] I am thrilled and excited to be engaged but still stumbling over the word "fiance." Is there a synonym that sounds less fruity? Perhaps I could invent a word from the ridiculous Real Property vocabulary I'm learning now for the first time.

On that note, it turns out that Property Law questions remind me a little bit of the Logic Games section of the LSAT. Everyone always pisses and moans about that Games section. Often times, people complain that it has no real world implications. Well, the next time you have to figure out some sort of insane chain of future interests, messed-up restrictive covenant drama, or "chain of title," those games will seem eerily familiar. Personally, the Games section of the LSAT was my favorite part. In fact, I liked puzzling them out so much that I didn't so much bother teaching myself how to approach the reading comprehension section. Now that I'm facing Property questions, I am getting a similar code-cracking feeling from deciphering these ridonkulous vocabulary words. I can't say that I find this process satisfying, but I do hold out hope that at some point I will understand these "words" and perhaps this topic will not be such a black hole for me.

I'll close with an example of some definitions I wish existed in the law:

Remainderman: The clean-up guy at dinner, see, e.g., my father. The man who eats everything left on everyone else's plates so nothing goes to waste.
Avulsion: The feeling of panic and illness that comes over a student who took my "Property" class when faced with Property questions.
Reverter: A popular Berserker death-grind cover band. "My love for you is like a truck, REVERTER!"

Still Here

2006-05-20T18:28:00.000-07:00

It's been quite some time since I posted. In fact, since I last wrote, I've hosted a big party, taken exams, started watching Grey's Anatomy (against my better judgment), graduated from law school... and most recently, I've sprained my ankle. Since so much has occurred recently, I don't feel like I'm up to the task of updating the blogosphere on the little details.

For good measure though, I'll share a few highlights in case anyone still reads this:

[Mercifully] Short Graduation due to no Commencement Speaker In characteristically Berkeley-ish fashion, a protest prevented Howard Dean from speaking at Boalt's graduation ceremony. The AFSCME custodial workers on UC Berkeley's campus have been demanding a living wage for a long time. They specifically picketed commencement speeches at Berkeley to target a number of Democrats who were scheduled to speak. Not wanting to cross a union line, the speakers declined to deliver their speeches. I support AFSCME's struggle for a living wage, and generally don't want to get in to the politics behind all of this in this forum. Fortunately, my family also supported the shorter ceremony. It may have spared them all some serious sunburn. The weather graduation weekend was phenomenally gorgeous.

In Attempt to "Get Back in Shape" Recent Law Grad Immediately Sprains Ankle No less than 20 minutes into my first jog of the summer, I turned my ankle on some crappy and uneven West Berkeley pavement. This was to be my summer of discipline and fitness, both in terms of Bar study and running. Although my ankle is healing fast and I'm off crutches, I resent this slower start on my running plan. In spite of my regrets, I'll probably need the extra time I can spend studying to learn property. Today in PMBR class I learned exactly how little property I know. And by how little, I mean none... Looking at those questions was like trying to read a foreign language. I hate property - SO BAD!

The Goat Cheese Graduation Party I threw this open house for a few of my closest friends and their families before graduation. My sister and I cooked, parents and friends mingled, we had some Princesse Tort from IKEA (which, btw is amazing), and we danced in my kitchen. It was awesome. I am so thankful for my family and the marvelous friends I've made here. The theme, which was essentially to put goat cheese in almost every dish, may have escaped the majority of the partgoers' detection, but the food was yummy. Perhaps once this fricking Bar exam is over, I'll throw another dinner party.

Marissa Cooper is NO MORE! At the beginning of the season finale I had a horrible feeling that the character who would die was going to be my beloved Sandy Cohen. My fears stemmed from Peter Gallagher's comments at the recent (3rd Annual) Sandy Cohen Fellowship event. PG seemed pretty down about the show. [In retrospect, this was probably due to the fact that Fox hadn't announced it was being renewed for next year yet.] During my panic about his possible death, I recalled that at the OC@Boalt ceremony, he even made some veiled remarks about how if Sandy were no longer around, we'd have to keep the fellowship going. [In fact, he coined the brilliant catchy tag line: "Keep the Sandy Cohen Goin'!"] Fortunately, my fears were assuaged when Marissa died in a car crash. Phew! So glad that Mischa "The Bear" Barton can move on to other projects. Although the OC will now be free of her crappy acting and annoying character, I have some doubts about the show's feature. With the fab foursome down to three, and off to college, I can't help but say that the show has jumped the shark. Here's hoping for some kind of renaissance...

Well, I suppose I don't have much to say by way of update. This post was, if nothing more, a catalyst. Hopefully, it will trigger more writing, and [much] more interesting things to say. Blah...

the TRUTH exposed!

2006-03-18T17:11:00.000-08:00

Drinking Sparks, and perhaps especially Sparks Plus*, all night does result in massive hangovers. Here's to the Sandy nonetheless!

* Also note, the claim on the Wikipedia Sparks page that the drink tastes like pixie stix is absolutely ridiculous. The drink tastes exactly like Flintstones vitamins.

You know you're a nerdy law student when you spend the whole day thinking about official immunity...

2006-03-15T12:30:00.000-08:00

And it's out of your own free will.
This morning I stumbled across a story in the Mpls Star Tribune and the Pioneer Press. The Strib version is here. The version from across the river is here. By the time I post this, the story will likely have been covered elsewhere but this is what I read so I'm going to limit my comments to what I absorbed from these articles.

By way of summary, for those of you read on before reading the links (for shame!), the Fire Chief in my hometown is a lesbian. Her name is Bonnie Bleskachek, and she is one of the first openly gay fire chiefs in the nation.... maybe the first. Bleskachek's former partner, Jennifer Cornell, brought suit in federal court today against Bleskachek for a continuing pattern of on the job hostility. In addition to living with and raising children with Bleskachek, Cornell was also a firefighter and worked under her. Cornell claims that Bleskachek physically assaulted and beat her. In addition to this violence, Bleskachek used her position of power to abuse her in their workplace as well.

A few things sparked my interest in this story. For one thing, it is an example of domestic violence in the workplace, an area in which the effects of domestic violence are rarely explored in the news. It is also unlike the employment-related DV cases I've heard about before, where an abuser sabotages their partner's attempts to work outside the home, destroys job related materials, or beats their partner up so they can't make it into work. Instead, this story illustrates how the workplace could, quite literally, be another site where an abuser with supervisory control over their partner could find new ways to flex power and inflict harm. Obviously, this is also a case involving (at least allegations of) same-sex partner abuse. While oft-cited stats show that abuse happens about as often in same-sex relationships as in opposite-sex relationships, I get the sense that domestic violence cases involving same-sex partners are more rare. This is just a guess, but I imagine, backed by some reading I've done on the topic, that my hunch might be accurate due to a couple of factors. First, there may be reluctance to draw attention to problems within the community. Or reluctance to draw attention to the existence of a same-sex relationship in the first place. There's also the likelihood of bias, or disbelief, in the courts.

Along with these observations, what really surprised me about this story was how there was in this case, an apparent federal cause of action in an individual case against an alleged abuser. I speculate that this suit must be a Section 1983 claim, though none of the articles covering this story actually state the cause of action. Since I'm guessing that this is a Section 1983 case, I'm also assuming that Bleskacheck was sued in her official capacity. The most recent update on the story says that the suit also lists the city and the Fire Dept as defendants so I imagine that my guess is on point. While the case has elements of employment discrimination, those allegations seem rooted the in the domestic violence that underlies the whole situation.

I discussed this with my friend Snoopy, a fellow fed courts student last semester and DV clinic participant. Both of us found this situation to be quite unique. There have been DV cases in federal court before. The only ones that come to mind though involve VAWA or suits against municipal governments for failure to enforce restraining orders (i.e., Castle Rock, though I think this suit originated in CO State Court). Snoops, who recalls fed courts in quite a bit more detail than I do, wondered whether Bleskacheck would be able to assert official immunity. That doctrine is over my head to a large extent and way too complicated for me to delve into here, but suffice it to say, it seems possible that if she's not found to have acted in her official capacity, it will be tough to prove liability. Until today I hadn't considered this nexus between liability for actions taken in an official capacity against an employee which happen to constitute abuse against a domestic partner. Probably this is because it's relatively rare for spouses to supervise spouses at work??

In any event, this whole situation is really sad. The violence mentioned in the article is horrible and heartbreaking. I'm really curious to see how this case was pleaded and hope to provide further updates as things progress. Regardless of what happens in this suit, I guess I hope that it will result in increased awareness about the widespread and devastating impact of domestic violence in employment. That's undoubtedly wishful thinking.

Just Rolling... in my Benzo

2006-01-30T18:12:00.000-08:00

Recently in Berkeley I've observed more uncharacteristically Bezerkeley things than usual. Perhaps they aren't actually out of character so much as they are bizarre and unexpected. If that's true, they are probably more Berkeley than tie-dyed, unwashed business hippies.

Example the first: Ladies are wearing the silliest, and furriest boots around this campus. Goodness gracious! I am accustomed to seeing people wear ridiculously warm clothing in California. For some reason it is chic to wear big winter hats, scarves, and gloves when it's around 50 degrees Farenheit. Until this year, (or last year's advent of the Ugg) these wintery staples were usually paired with flip-flops or sandals of some sort. While this Berkeley fashion statement was certainly incongruous, I was aghast when I saw the plethora of boots designed for very cold, even Siberian, weather this year. Now these boots are not just warm, they are goofy. They have fur, and tassels, and embroidery and they are hardly ever cute - at all. I just don't get it.

Example the second: Near the intersection of Bancroft and College last week I saw a white Mercedes Benz SUV. Now the SUVs near campus seem un-Berkeley to me in the first place but the most surprising aspect of this Benzo was it's vanity plate. That's right, as if you needed a vanity plate when you've already got the shiny new Benz. In any event, this vanity plate read, "Go Vegan."

What the heck? How gaz guzzling cars exemplify the vegan lifestyle is beyond me, but I sure am glad that this car owner had his or her priorities straight. I mean it's really critical not to eat honey - which was produced by oppressed bees. It's far less important to conserve fossil fuels and prevent destruction of our dear Mother Earth, home to, that's right, all living creatures. Even those adorable honeybees.

My Faithful Readers

2006-01-16T16:54:00.000-08:00

Recently I noted that when I google my name (ah the vanities of self-stalking), that this url is the first hit. I don't know when or how this happened. I make a conscious effort to avoid self-reference in my posts. Maybe blogger changed its policy?

In any event, I began to wonder if this might have any effect on the number of hits that "For God and For Cheese" receives. There's really no way to check, but I was curious. Upon further research I've discovered that searches for "is cheese bad for dogs?" and "wet pets san pablo" are just as common routes for ending up at this site as a google search for my name. Most likely this change in the Google realm has had no impact whatsoever over here... Nevertheless, I was also encouraged to ruminate on this type of web popularity by a certain friend who will remain nameless.*

Here are my findings:

The results from "Blog Patrol" show that in the past month, I've received 395 hits. I'm not sure if this slightly inflated number was due to some holiday cheer, or reflects hope that I would actually post something while on break from school, but I generally average around 10 hits per day. While this is by no means overwhelming, I was intrigued to find that many of my readers are not in fact members of my family. My seemingly most loyal reader, Lizardo, is indeed my sister but there are plenty of reader urls listed from places as far away as... Oklahoma. With this surging popularity, I resolve to write more in upcoming months. I've got an article on legal clinics on deck waiting for my commentary. Stay tuned.

* In future posts I will fully disclose the reasons for all of this sleuthing.

A bright happy light on the horizon?

2005-12-18T18:59:00.000-08:00

My life for the past couple of weeks has been pretty glum. I got disappointing news on a job front and have been blue about that for about two weeks. The weather, even here in Berkeley, has also been uniformly yucky. This morning there was such a torrential downpour that a sewer main down the street on Woolsey broke. There was a literal geyser of poo-water flooding our street for about 45 minutes. The water reached so far as to cover the first doorstep up to our building. Thankfully, Rordog and I were able to watch this scene, and all of our sleepy and scantily clad neighbors photographing the flood, from our second-story turret. To add to this rainy chaos, on Friday there was apparently an earthquake around 10:30am which could be felt from Boalt but which I missed. [Cue the "It's the End of the World as we Know It"]

On top of all this, finals are also sort of a lonely period and I get really depressed when trying to learn an entire course-worth of material in 72 hours. Now that my intense, and productive, period of study is over, I am left feeling sort of guilty about the lack of energy I have to devote to my final final. That sense of malaise brings me back to the blog.

In order to distract myself while "studying" at a tea shop with the Ha this afternoon, I came up with my dream job. I want to be a TV lawyer consultant. Many popular shows misrepresent the law and how it works or have their attorney characters acting inconsistently with their profession/and or persona. (As an illustration here I'm thinking about Sandy Cohen on the OC. Admittedly, I think Sandy is supposed to act from his heart, throwing caution and the Rules of Professional Responsibility to the wind from time to time but... sometimes I think the show could use some better legal advice from someone with a JD... someone like me.) So, the idea is that I become a consultant to writers and producers and do their legal homework for them. This way I can be involved in all sorts of fake legal drama and get TV plots for my favorite shows way on the early side. Perhaps I can even meet real live stars. Hollywood, here I come!

I like big butts and I cannot lie...

2005-12-06T00:07:00.000-08:00

My musicology may be off, but to the best of my knowledge, the musical expression of true fondness for large rear ends began in the rap genre. Perhaps the critical piece in this field is Sir-Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back." Other (at least somewhat related) exemplars include Sisqo's, "The Thong Song" and whatever spawned the phrase, "Junk in the Trunk."

Until today, I thought this hysteria was primarily confined to rap. I was sorely mistaken. Today I was exposed to my new favorite song/monstrosity by "former college football player and oil rig roughneck," Trace Adkins. The illustrious song is "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk."

I am still reeling from the glory of these lyrics, and Trace's smooth baritone, so I'll simply nod to a few of the choicest phrases and now implore you all to download this gem.

"And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma*
There ought-a be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how'd she even get them britches on?"

*Is this a common phrase? I cannot endorse this type of abuse.

there's nothing like finals to inspire procrastination

2005-12-06T00:01:00.000-08:00

so here i am, back again. thanks to all who expressed solidarity and concern with the health of my little mac. right now we are back on rosy terms although it appears that while fixing my hard drive, the folks at apple essentially destroyed my wireless capacity. i suppose this is a blessing in disguise as, at least in theory, it should make me more productive. see above for how well that's working...

Who needs a "logicboard" anyway?

2005-11-12T22:47:00.000-08:00

This past week has not numbered among my best. In chief, the problems come down to the second failure of my computer because of a crack in its "logicboard." Apparently, this board of logic is the nerve center of my laptop and when it goes on the fritz... all hell breaks loose. On Tuesday morning I knew all was not well because my screen did what I call "the matrix" in the middle of criminal procedure. Lines started crossing my open windows, things froze, little green numbers started trailing down my screen and I panicked.* As it turns out, my panicked state was warranted because after bringing in my computer to the folks at the Mac Store, I learned that something was rotten in the state of my computer.

On top of the logicboard flaw, my entire hard drive had bitten the dust. Upon hearing this news I had a bit of a meltdown myself. Once I recovered, I managed to cajolethe folks at Mac to give data recovery on my behalf one last valiant effort. Happily, they managed to retrive all of my word documents from my time at Boalt. This was cause for great celebration but sadly, I lost all my music, my photos, and my emails.**

Over the course of this week and this loss, I've learned exactly how much my computer means to me. I was devastated and quite inconsolable when I thought everything was lost. It's been tough to shake this sense of frustration and the knowledge that not having my laptop is going to set me back a bit in terms of my studying and my all-too-elusive writing requirement. It feels as though these logicboard cracks are contagious. If I had one, it feels like it would be cracked right now too. I suppose the lesson to be learned in all of this is to lighten up, invest less (of my worth and energy) in my personal possessions, and... above all else - BACK UP YOUR DATA. That is my public service announcement. That is all.

* In reality, no awesome numbers dripped down my screen but it did begin to look as though it were possessed.
** I know, I know, I could have paid thousands of dollars to folks at Lazarus or Drivesavers to get this information but the cost of that operation could match my Bar expenses and I had to say no.

WHEREAS...

2005-11-04T16:53:00.000-08:00

Kip and LaFawnduh's wedding shows Idaho's commitment to healthy marriages...

This morning as part of my ongoing quest to once again attain Lexis-Nexis elite member status I did the 10 point "You Decide Fact or Fiction" research exercise. In the course of this point-grubbing I was delighted to find another legal research gem. My all-time favorite legal research tidbit is the Circuit Court judge quoting Ludacris but this is a close second.

Earlier this year, the Idaho House of Representatives passed a Resolution "commending Jared and Jerusha Hess and the City of Preston for the production of the movie "Napoleon Dynamite." Further research revealed that the Idaho State Senate also passed the resolution. Some of the best findings of the Legislature were:

WHEREAS, the friendship between Napoleon and Pedro has furthered multiethnic relationships;
WHEREAS, Rico and Kip's Tupperware sales and Deb's keychains and glamour shots promote entrepreneurism and self-sufficiency in Idaho's small towns;
WHEREAS, Pedro's efforts to bake a cake for Summer illustrate the positive connection between culinary skills to lifelong relationships; and...
WHEREAS, tater tots figure prominently in this film thus promoting Idaho's most famous export.

While all of these findings are quite hilarious, the best part of the resolution was the section that warned any naysaying members of the House of Representatives or the Senate "run the risk of having the 'Worst Day of Their Lives!; and are "FREAKIN' IDIOTS!"

Unsurprisingly, given these fighting words, the resolution passed the House unanimously with one absent member.

And on another note...

2005-11-02T23:25:00.000-08:00

I love that people in places other than Berkeley find the time to "protest" such atrocities as... Ashlee Simpson.

Six Reasons for the Recent Blog Hiatus

2005-11-02T22:57:00.001-08:00

6. The fact that my dear roommate pointed out how little my blog is worth hasn't helped me to feel motivated to post. See, e.g.:

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

5. The Social Security System in the old US of A is pretty darn complicated. I'm trying hard to write a paper that explains all this complexity that's (1) not mind-numbingly boring; (2) still really quite long so that it satisfies my stinking writing requirement; and (3) not as confusing or complex as my topic itself.
4. I've been thinking about the riots in Paris, the indictments, Scalito's nomination, the news of secret CIA prisons throughout Eastern Europe and beyond, but honestly, I've got little to add. I am happy that something is finally serving to take Bush down a notch, at least in the polls, but the news, for the most part, has been so depressing lately that I can't find anything to say.
3. I might have posted something about ANTM tonight but the episode wasn't new. Instead of eliminating another girl, Tyra recapped the season's episodes thus far. I was bored to tears but kept watching and came away with one take-home point: Jayla is America's Next Top Beeyotch. The producers have either been really merciless in editing her or she is truly one of the meanest individuals to ever surface on this show. Stay tuned for Tyra's inevitable heart-to-heart with Jayla which reveals the reasons for her 'tude and magically transforms her into America's darling. Also, tune in to UPN next week for what's certain to be some of the worst television ever. Former ANTM contestants will be starring on UPN's crappy shows, get this, every night of the week. If the acting wasn't atrocious to begin with, wait until the models arrive. Perhaps the idea behind this is to make the regular stars look halfway competent. What ingenuity!
2. This morning, I would have posted but I had an eye exam and my pupils were crazy dilated. I wore my sunglasses into the library and tried to work on my computer but the screen was too bright. With little else to do, I turned to reading Social Security cases off the Lexis printer.
1. I suppose the top reason for my lack of posting is that in the spirit of procrastination, I've stooped so low as to neglect even my blog.

Rumors of My Elopement Have been Vastly Overstated

2005-10-22T10:36:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, only one person (my darling little sister), has jumped to the conclusion that while in Vegas I eloped. Despite the actual lack of popular belief in this falsehood I see it fit to expel any rumors about my wedded status. I remain unmarried even after 72 hours in Las Vegas. The cheesy romance of the Excalibur wedding chapel and ceremony packages were enticing but rest assured that I mangaged to avoid getting hitched this week.

What I didn't manage to avoid this week was near complete unproductivity and an onslaught of food like you wouldn't believe. I believe I may feel full for the next couple of weeks. On the productivity note, if anyone has a suggestion about how to reform Social Security, let me know.

Finally, because I have little else to say but feel that I should be posting something on this oft-neglected blog - feel free to vote for what I should dress up as for Halloween:

a. a racy stripper-esque pirate (a la Treasure Island Casino show because this seems a funny play on the typical girl costumes of "sexy devil," "sexy cat," or "sexy schoolgirl").
b. middle-aged slot machine fanatic from the Midwest
c. other suggestions?

The Dianetics of Vegas

2005-10-18T12:59:00.000-07:00

As I write the din of slot machines echoes in the background. Quite the ambiance they provide in these snazzy Casino "business centers". Although I don't have the time to share all of my observations about Vegas I will say this: I like a town where fanny packs are fashion forward. I like a town with free drinks. I like a town with unbelievable boo-fays.

All that said, I am longing for the fresh-ish air of Berkeley and for a simple meal of say, cereal, even after just 2 days of Sin City.

Back to the glitz I go. More on ho trading cards, the trials and tribulations of finding good boots, and yard-long margaritas to come.

Some Comments on Blog Commments

2005-10-05T10:56:00.000-07:00

Recently, I've gotten a number of spam-like comments on this blog. I have chosen not to allow these comments to appear on my blog but some of them are pretty hilarious.

Earlier today I got this one from someone named "Jack Naka":

"Cool blog you have going here, I will check in often! I have a similar site about teen fashion. It pretty much covers teen fashion related stuff."

How did Mr. Naka know that I _love_ teen fashion? I am so into those silly looking shrunken sweaters. And sparkly glitter bags? Don't even get me started. In case you're interested in his hugely lame website, I'm giving you the opportunity to check it out. Knock your tweeny socks off.

On another note, the bulk of anonymous comments on my blog has also increased. By increase I mean to say that I've gotten some comments from people I either don't know or people who, for reasons of shame or the desire to keep secrets, chose not to reveal who they are. I don't have a problem with anonymous comments per se. In fact, I think I would be mistaken to require folks to reveal their identity if they want to leave a comment here. If I did that, ridiculous comments like this one (also see infra after the entry about the Yale survey NYT article) wouldn't see the light of day :

"As a male, from a purely self-interested perspective, the high proportion of women in law school improves my future career chances. Inevitably, many women who are currently my peers will exit the path to partnership/prestige/more money because only very few women can wear the mommy and the career hats. I think that's wrong, but knowing that 35-40% of us (the guys) will, by sole virtue of biology, be 80% of the competiton for the best jobs in 10 years helps assuage career-related anxieties."

Comment away. My sarcastic reaction was to suggest that "anonymous" head straight to Yale where he can begin seducing young women who are eager to stay at home and support his career aspirations. Upon further reflection, this comment is pretty astute in some ways although the "by sole virtue of biology" aspect is a bit reductive. Do many men in law school feel this way? Are the jobs that are going primarily to men really the "best jobs?"

My Distate for Animals and My Indifference to Friendster

2005-09-30T23:57:00.000-07:00

1. Newsflash: I am not an animal-lover.
People I know tend to be surprised when they learn that I am not a fan of dogs, cats, or any pets for that matter. Somehow this fact is idiosyncratic with the rest of my personality. Folks seem to assume that I love animals as much as, or perhaps more than, the next person. Au contraire. I enjoy the idea of animals in the wild and used to love going to the zoo to look at the tapir. When it comes to dogs or even "cute little puppies" coming near me however, I would rather they stay away. There are a few of reasons for this.
a. For one thing, I was a very small child. As a little kid, most dogs towered over me. When my parents took me to places with dogs, they barked and freaked me out. They slobbered over me. They generally smell b-a-d. I've never really gotten over this.*
b. My father detests cats. My yia-yia does too. From a young age I was reared to think that they were dirty and to be avoided. That impression/indoctrination has stuck with me.
c. I'm kind of allergic to dogs which poses a natural deterrent.
d. Personally, and most likely for the aforementioned reasons, I can't think of a good rationale for spending all sorts of time and money on a pet. Why not buy a new pair of sneakers, spend time with a friend? That said, even I might make an exception if the pet were purchased from "Wet Pets San Pablo." That place is deserving of anyone's patronage solely because of their fantastic home-video-esque commercials. Perhaps I'll make a trip soon.

2. Major Shakeup at Friendster: This morning right before Fed Courts started I was shocked to learn about a new feature on Friendster. You can now view who has looked at your profile in the past month. Shockingly, this can be quite a few people. Interestingly, I just discovered, that this log builds up over the course of a month but is deleted immediately at the month's end. Now that it's October (by a mere forty minutes) I cannot see who viewed my profile in September. This must be Friendster's version of a perverse notice requirement. By that I mean that the Friendster folks introduced this feature at the very end of the month to titillate their users but provide very little satisfaction. Also, in so doing, they warned people that now their "stalking" actions are subject to scrutiny by the very objects of their curiosity or obsession.

The general sense I'm getting about this feature is that it's pretty devastating for people. It takes the fun out of the anonymity of Frienster, that sneaky sense of snooping with no possibility of detection. The person who revealed the feature to me was devastated and, as the following transcript of an AIM conversation with another Friendster demonstrates, this will likely have a chilling effect on dating. I may go so far as to predict the demise of Friendster.

Dirtina's high school pal, and coincidentally Friendster (DHSP): some girl named "Arlene"** bookmarked me
Dirtina (D): how exciting
(DHSP): i don't want to look at her profile though
(D): i know, it's a total trap!
(DHSP): because then i'll be the one guy [in october] who looked at her profile
(D): exactly

Q.E.D.

* Noted exceptions: Otto & Gretta, the best Beagles in the world. Distinct personalities in their own right. RIP.
** Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

So, as it turns out, you CAN'T do it all well.

2005-09-20T23:10:00.000-07:00

Joining me tonight in the blogosphere - M. Rup.

An article in the New York Times today examined, and not very critically or very well, certain life expectations of female students at Ivy League colleges. The young women quoted in this article intend to put parenting (i.e., mommying) above their career goals. A choice to parent instead of pursuing a career full speed ahead is perfectly legitimate. However, apart from the seemingly innocent and insular "individual choices, this article disturbed us to our very core. In chief, we raise two critiques.

(1) We are disturbed about the institutional impacts of rich women taking up spots in elite institutions because they have the option and privilege to do so but will not make full use of their degrees. When education is as competitve and expensive as it is now, why not leave the class spots open for people who will use their degree? This is especially concerning to us because so many of the students quoted in this article plan to become lawyers. In our opinion the legal profession needs more public servants and more students from underrepresented backgrounds. Another related issue is that when many women express these preferences it adds credibility to assumptions that all women will eventually choose the "mommy track." This is damaging to women in the law and other professions. I'm not arguing that everything will change if women just realign their preferences with equally disturbing second-wave feminist viewpoints but until people start demanding more gender equity, nothing in the workplace is going to begin to change.

(2) The viewpoints in this article implicitly assume that all women have the choice to stay at home with their children. While maybe some of these Yalies from the burbs can rely on their daddies to pay for their whole education, college and law school, and then rely on their husbands to foot their bills, not all women find themselves in their Manolo Blahniks. From comments like these, "My mother's always told me you can't be the best career woman and the best mother at the same time," Ms. Liu said matter-of-factly. "You always have to choose one over the other," the judgment that is very clearly being made is that women who have to be both a career woman and a mother cannot possibly be good mothers, or good career women. The disturbing part about all of this is not that women who choose to stay home are making a politically incorrect choice. What bothers us is the lack of recognition that is is a very privileged choice. And this article presented women who showed an almost total lack of understanding of this fact. Making matter-of-fact statements that it is impossible and unrealisitc to expect to be a good mother and a career woman screams at low-income and single mothers "Hey! No matter how hard you work, you won't ever be as good at being a mother as we are because we can afford it!" The fact of the matter is that it's not realism telling women they can't do both well: It's women like Ms. Liu and the others quoted in this article spouting the short-sighted and self-aggrandizing career or mother dichotomy.

To close with the words of Rortina, "Q.E.D. MF."

For the whole article check this out.

2005-09-14T21:24:00.000-07:00

am i
creating line breaks
here?

What Would Martha Do?

2005-09-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

As of late my posting has dropped dramatically in frequency. I am busy. Pretty swamped with work in fact. Although I am stressed, don't get me wrong - I still procrastinate like you wouldn't believe. For some reason, instead of spending my spare moments blogging, I've been addicted to domestic chores.

Case in point: Last night I cooked a relatively elaborate dinner, paprikash to be precise. I followed the cooking with a plant potting session and kitchen-clean up. I looked up muffin recipes. I searched for futon covers online. I made cookies.

Things are getting out of hand and I'm beginning to wonder, is Martha Stewart actually just one of the world's biggest procrastinators?

i am not surly...

2005-09-09T00:39:00.000-07:00

and now for another drunk blog...

I am NOT surly.

I am many things. Surly, as it turns out, is not one of them. I am, I must admit, a hopeless fan of TV that should be reserved only for 17-year-old girls.

And I'm not just talking about the OC because, let's be honest, that's in the vein of Dawson's Creek: that excusable sort of bad. The self-referential "wink wink, nudge nudge we're laughing at ourselves as you're laughing at ourselves so we're laughing at you" cyclical humor that makes you want to puke from motion sickness, but doesn't stop you from lining up around the block just to get to the Boalt showing of the first epeisode (Welcome to the premiere, bitches). I'm a fan of One Tree Hill and plan to be an avid viewer of the new show that looks bad enough to be good, The Reuion. Not to mention my lingering longing for the deceased Buffy. So it goes.

But I'm not surly. I'm not. So get off my back already. I'm tired. And I think Surreal Life is about to come on.

can i be your blunk drogger?

2005-09-09T00:24:00.000-07:00

This was the question posed to me moments ago by none other than my roommate who is currently noshing on Kashi and breaking it down to some Bel Biv De Voe. Take it away Rordog...

I guess there are four observations that I wouldn like to share with you, dear reader. I'm not sure twhat they are yet, but let's give ita shot....

POINT THE FIRST: I'm not a big fan of Star Trek. I hate to say it, b/c I'm a HUGE fan of the IDEA of Star Trek. I love Next Gerenation (TNG for my fellow nerds). I jsut can't get into other shows. I mean, awesome, they don't have money b/c 'the human race has outgrown it's infancy.' (Comments, Hagan?) But our arch-enemies still have paper plates stuck to their heads. And Romulan Ale tastes like Ass

POINT THE SECOND: I am intoxicated, as is my editor. So, grain of salt

POINT THE THIRD: If any of you out there wonder what the post-revolution dystopia might look like, I reccomend Berkeley. Really excellent.

POINT THE FOURTH, Myra Rubert likes really lame music. I"m not talking about the Shaggy, though that's not so great. And I'm not talking about Boyz II Men. And I'm not talking about The Weather Human, either, sihnce I'm a big fan of the Weather Roommate. I guess it comes down, as it so often does, to Bonnie Tyler. There's a special place in hell for the poetry professor who told me that my work reminded her of Bonnie Tyler, in a good way.

BONUS!!! POINT THE FIFTH: If this is the drunken, slightly less reactionary version of the Becker-Ponser blog, I call Becker. At leas tthe guy's got some training in economics.

- Rordog.

With that from Rordog and this wisdom, "Don't think - just post,'' here's goes.

It was Kerouakian - no don't. It's a "c."

In other news, I received what appeared to be porn in the mail today. I had received Pottery Barn catalogs since moving into my new apartment but Playboy is a whole different story. Perhaps this all stems from the time I gave away my information to Parliament, the cigarette company. Oh the things one does when out and dancing... it seemed like such a good idea.

That's all for now but if someone could tell me if they've received a Playboy catalog recently - that would be awesome. Yeah, thanks.

Allow Myself to Recommend... Myself

2005-08-31T23:23:00.000-07:00

It is out of a sense of deep frustration that I turn to blogging this evening. I'm in the process of trying to write a draft recommendation letter, for myself. I have no issue with heaping praise on others. I even tend to be effusive. When writing about myself however I feel like gagging and revert to using the passive voice _all the time_.

But enough about me, seriously. Perhaps I should just conclude this with Roommate Rortina's suggestion: "Finally, she is an ideal candidate for this position because she has an ass that just won't quit."

Brilliant.

Anvils are Awesome

2005-08-18T13:14:00.000-07:00

For a moment I entertained the notion of composing this entry like an alphabet book. "Anvils are Awesome... Burgers are not Bogus... etc." Instead, I will allow this short statement to suffice for the issue presented, "Who knew midwestern hardware stores were so hip?"

Anyway, while back in Minneapolis, I went to an amazing event with my dear friend EPS, her husband TS, and her dad, Mike. Garner Hardware Store, an average hardware store that sells the usual mix of sandpaper, tools, paint, caulk, what-have-you, annually drops a whole lot of stuff on one junker car. The climax of this event is the "Anvil Drop." [See this page for an account of a past event.]

The dropping of stuff is preceded by a performance by Savage Aural Hotbed. SAH is a band out of the Minne-apple that plays techno-esque noise on power tools, barrels, and sometimes a base. SAH also has some extremely cool fans. Almost 100 people came out - in the rain - at 2:00pm on a workday to hear these dudes, quite literally, wail on their axes. I enjoyed watching their fans bob, along with their umbrellas, in time to the music almost as much as I enjoyed watching the anvil actually drop. On another note, a surprising number of SAH fanatics have rat tails or other haircuts that start short but end long. Note, these haircuts are mystifingly distinct from the mullet yet more disturbing. Query, why is this so?

After a sweet set from Savage, a few young, male employees who apparently work at Garner climbed up to the top of the three or four story building that houses Garner Hardware. They brought along a variety of melons, water balloons, eggplants, and the long expected anvil. [If this blog had a soundtrack cue the "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus..." to evoke the joy of Christmas and the holiday sesason.] The excitement in the crowd was palpable as the boys prepared to rain melons down on the car sitting next to the building.

Those of us in the crowds timidly inched away from the car. The melons hit with fury and impunity. The roof of the car caved in. Melon pulp scattered over the crowd. Watermelon landed in my hair and on my shirt. Words cannot describe the exhiliration that came when watching such destruction. Finally, they raised the anvil. This single moment might be enough to convince me to spend next summer interning at Garner Hardware. The anvil TOTALLY crashed through the roof of the car and, get this, all the way down through the floor. Amazing.

To top off the wonder of the anvil droppage, the folks at Garner then proceeded to cut through an entire minivan with a saw. That was also awesome, although loud and lacking in melons. My compatriots scrounged up some free burgers and hot dogs and my friend's dad bought me a commemorative Anvil Drop t-shirt. See it sported proudly by me or jdm. Now... all I need is a rat tail.

games with the fam

2005-08-13T20:06:00.000-07:00

Today I bought a dominoes set. It did not come in a cool carrying case like the one I saw at my dear friend's wedding in PA. Apparently, those are hard to come by in Minnesota. Games by James pulled through though and I got a nifty set of 28 dominoes which are, somewhat embarrassingly, colored. They also come in a patriotic tin. I could have done without the flags and the color.

I am, however, way excited to teach my family how to play dominoes. Readers may wonder, "Dirteens, why must you instruct your grown-up kin on how to set up dominoes in a row so you can knock them all down with one flick of a finger?" Dear reader, it is not so simple. The Belizean version of dominoes to which I am now partial is much more math-y.

Now, here I am, twiddling my thumbs, exalting the greatness of dominoes, and waiting for my mother to return home. She is out, attempting to convince my grandmother that she has in fact lived in her nursing home for well over five years now. That has been quite a matter for debate lately.

The truth of that matter is perhaps no less elusive than the meaning of "ensky." My family is way into "Balderdash." It is a cutthroat and often hilarious game with my relatives. My sister informs me that I missed a particularly rousing game last weekend but I thought our game last night was swell. We didn't finish because we decided to watch "NUMB3RS."* "Ensky," incidentally, was my second-favorite word of the evening. It is, oddly enough, a verb. According to Balderdash, it means something like, "to eugugolize a la Derek Zoolander." Google claims that it means "to exalt to the skies; lift to the skies or to heaven with praise." I posited that it meant, "a male matchmaker, cf. yente, fem." I got 3 votes.

By far, the word "mullock" beat out "ensky." It means, "a pile of trash." My brother came up with the best definition _ever_. He said it meant, "a mullet with dreadlocks as the flow, or a 'dreaded mullet.'"

Please, can I see a real live mullock? Maybe at the Minnesota State Fair... if only I were sticking around for that. Mmm. Cheese curds.

* NUMB3RS is the best new TV show out there. I was thrilled to hear that my family loves the show. I watched only the pilot last spring with jdm and leebay. It is something like "Square One" for grownups. Subtract the music video sequences - make the whole thing "Mathnet." Oh man, I hope the first season comes out on DVD.

Girl Crashes: Frightens Sister

2005-08-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

At around 11:00am Thursday morning, Dirtina Dirteens, of "For God and Cheese," took an unfortunate spill on her parents' (shared) bicycle. Ms. Dirteens spent the morning biking to Minnehaha Falls with her sister, an avid cyclist. The trip to the falls was pleasant, somewhat physically exerting, and uneventful. As the siblings approached the Tangletown area (Luverne Avenue), things took a turn, quite literally, for the worse. Approaching an intersection, Ms. Dirteens clutched her brakes. Unfortunately, she managed to grasp only the front wheel brake. Unbeknownst to Ms. Dirteens, the bike had an unusually responsive front wheel braking system. Quite suddenly, she flew over the handlebars, and fell, as though in slow-motion on to the asphalt.

The fall happened in a precise sequence: first her left thigh hit the ground, then her hands, lastly, her chin. Dirtina's sister, Lizardo, was later quoted as saying, "It sort of looked like she was doing 'The Worm.' After her chin hit the ground her legs came up all wave, or worm-like. It was sort of sweet."

Fortunately for the Dirteens Sisters, Lizardo is trained in CPR. Even more fortunately, CPR was not necessary, especially since Lizardo's training is long-past expired. Just a few minutes after the spill, the sisters headed for home. Dirtina's nose ran more than usual but other than that, the trip home was safe, if a little slow and cautious.

Upon returning chez Dirteens, Dirtina began cleaning her wounds and icing her bruised chin. Lizardo performed a concussion check and all was well - Dirtina's pupils dilated normally. When Mrs. Dirteens came upstairs she heard some chatter about a fall and had no doubt that it was, indeed, her eldest who had fallen. Dirtina is well-known as the most-dramatic klutz in the family and is recognized as injury-prone in Minnesota and beyond. In fact, to be certain, Lizardo disclaims feeling frightened at the site of the accident. She says, " I was a bit startled though by no means surprised. I thought we might have another broken nose on our hands. But I realized long ago that she's pretty resilient."

Here's to resilience... and John Denver's mullet. In the immortal words of Lizardo, "I'll say his mullet looks pretty resilient, even timeless."

great expectations

2005-08-11T21:09:00.000-07:00

It's been quite some time since I've had anything to say on this piece of Internet terrain. To be more precise, it's not that I've had nothing to say, but that I've had no web access or I've fallen asleep before I've started typing. It is truly a thrilling life that I lead. In any event, I also worked up some anxiety about posting. I thought I should write something really compelling to hook readers back in to "For God and Cheese." This nervous feeling is akin to the upset and "butterflies in my stomach" feeling that I get when I think about how I should probably learn how to drive.

Despite all these thoughts, I find myself writing about pretty much nothing on my living room floor in my parents home in Minneapolis. I'm having a swell time here but there is little to report, in this entry at least.

I'll close with my thoughts in the last few minutes...

- Gee, this ice cream tastes kind of freezer-burnt. Not even the yummy blueberries are helping it at all. Oh well - just keep eating, just keep eating.
- Rosie Perez is ridiculously annoying. Holy buckets - SO annoying.
- That guy, "Scarecrow/Dr. Crane" in Batman Begins, really is scary looking. His eyes are extremely creepy.
- It's great that Minnesota has no sales tax on clothing. It's unfortunate, however, that Governor Pawlenty's commitment to imposing no new taxes seems to be pricing Minnesotans out of public higher education.
- Too bad so many people need housing in Berkeley. I'm not sure I really want to be roommates with many of them. I hope that I can say no to a good dozen or so people nicely...
- Is a 7 CD John Denver set really a good hook for folks who might become members of Twin Cities Public Television - i.e., if they purchase a membership they get that as their appreciation gift?

"Hey yous, watch out now, the roads are kinda slippy."

2005-07-20T21:08:00.000-07:00

Some reflections on N. East PA:

Coal mining regions are far more beautiful than I had expected.* Pennsylvania sort of evoked a flatter Oregon. It was, to be certain, warmer than the Pacific Northwest though. After a long ordeal involving cancelled flights and the incompetence of US Airways, I stepped outside of the Philly Airport and my glasses fogged up. I hadn't experienced that type of heat and 110% humidity in quite a while. That type of muggy-ness is just disgusting.

The purpose of my trip to PA was my college roommate's wedding. It was the first time I had seen her in over two years and it was wonderful just to be in her presence again. She was completely calm in the midst of chaos, a beautiful bride, a gracious hostess, and is a generally fantastic person. I resolve to visit her more often down in LA (especially once I'm through with school). As a bridesmaid things were also pretty laid back. The wedding party and assorted cousins went bowling (miraculously, I broke 100), we drank ridiculously cheap booze at the bowling alley, we went swimming in a pool with a real live frog in it, and in our baby blue dresses, all of us bridesmaids sweated like hogs. One highlight of the occassion was having more hairspray dumped into my hair than I think has ever touched my hair over the course of my entire life. Thankfully, with my do', I managed to avoid candle flames at the reception which is why I'm here to record these events today.

Some foolhardy(?) ambition...**
Since this post has been relatively diary-esque, I'll close with something equally personal and attempt to attach "For God and Cheese's" first cheesy photo. I'm thinking this might become a regular feature. If this works, you'll be able to see a great glamour shot of me and jdm on the Fourth of July. I appear pregnant, but can assure you I am not. I am just wearing unfortunately bulky layers a top an extremely cold and windy hill.

* On an equally surprising note, coal mines really do look like the mines depicted in Zoolander when Derek returns home.
** And in contrast to ambition, I need only 25 credits to graduate and don't intend to take on more. Here's hoping for a laid back year.

Surf-O-Rama

2005-07-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

Now, I don't know about law firms taking summer associates to Tijuana to booze it up and sing karaoke (see infra). I feel that a law firm's money could be spent in a way that would benefit the community in Tijuana in a more positive manner. Perhaps I am too idealistic. On the other hand, I may be hypocritical. I think my firm's recent SURFING trip for summer associates was absolutely fabulous. My upper arms have never been so sore as they were the day after I surfed but the exhilaration of catching waves and actually standing up for a few fractions of a second made it all worth the trip (and the working Saturday).

To top off an excellent surfing experience, after catching waves I drank the first Bloody Mary I actually liked and... appeared in a major lawyer newspaper today. The best tidbits from the article include this quote from the coordinator about how to teach summer associates to surf. He "does what any good lawyer would [do.] '[He drafts] a memo about surfing... And then every year, [He changes] the dates, patch[es] it up and send[s] it back around." As for me, I was quoted as saying, "I'm a Minnesotan, [I hope surfing is] something like sledding."

Another part of the article pictured me, grinning and bearing the weight of the board as I walked in my wetsuit towards the beach. Wetsuits are not so flattering. I never anticipated wearing a wetsuit in my first "paparazzi" moment. Grubby sweats, maybe. A wetsuit, never. I would post the picture, but, in all honesty, it is inaccessible without payment of an absurdly expensive online subscription fee.

In any event, the article went on to talk about some other law firm events including the aforementioned trip to Tijuana. I wonder if any of these summers had experiences like Marissa's TJ OD in the first season of the OC...

"Recently, a group of eight from Baker & McKenzie's Palo Alto and San Francisco offices paid a visit to the firm's San Diego office -- and then headed south of the border with summer associates from that office to visit Baker's outpost in Tijuana.
The trip included an introduction to the office, a talk on efforts to locate new businesses in Tijuana and a Mexican meal, highlighted with karaoke.
Despite some surprise from the summer associates, karaoke is a regular occurrence in Baker's Tijuana office.

"Partners, too, were singing," said [a summer associate]. A couple of tequila shots later, [summer associate] was singing as well, to Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On."

Indeed, let's get it on.

Can I get some fries with that shake shake...?

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

I was walking home tonight from the BART after a lovely dinner with a dear friend from Minneapolis when I was given occassion to appreciate just how much the summer associate life can lead to gluttony, or at the very least, good eatin'. So, I'm walking briskly back to my apartment when two gentlemen slow down to say "Hello." As I pass them by, and they get a look at the other half of me (i.e., the back side of me), one says something I won't repeat for my delicate readers. The other says, "Dang! You look good, keep eating that fine food you've been eating."

Now this comment could lend itself to the interpretation that I had just left a fancy schmancy dinner and was dressed up, as though I had been at Chez Panisse or something. Such was not the case. I was wearing sneakers with the weird leftover work clothes I'm suffering through until my dry cleaning is done. The more apt interpretation of this remark (which was remarkably astute) is that I am indeed eating fine food this summer... and it shows. Awesome insight from an offhand comment. Awesome.

Christmas sweatshirts

2005-07-02T22:16:00.000-07:00

To me, a girl who was raised in the stifling humidity of Minnesota summers, one of the wonders of living in Berkeley is the fact that summer is temperate, even cool. Tonight, on the way to "Whole Paycheck" for groceries, I sported my red-orange hoodie as per usual in the evening. Embarassingly, I noted halfway there that my companion, jdm, was sporting a similar green hooded sweatshirt. We looked like dweebs.* Three people laughed at us while crossing the street. Then, on the way back this woman totally blew through her tires when she had to slam on her brakes to avoid running us over in the crosswalk. I saw my life flash before my very eyes. Her tires were totally smoking: serves her right that crazy maniac.

In other news, I am getting a new phone. Soon I will move past my passe Chicago area-code and become one with the 510. For a few days though I will hold on to both numbers just so I can sing, a la Ludacris, that "I've got phones, I got phones, in different area codes, area codes."

I'm off to eat a Frog Hollow peach and return to my work. They are so delicious... holy buckets.

Before I go, note this result when you search for my blog's name on Google.

* jdm contests this assertion. To him, we looked better than twins... we looked like twin elves.

in search of disparaging remarks

2005-06-29T21:47:00.000-07:00

Confession: I'm going through a spell of "blog insecurity" lately. For one thing, I never have time to write anything of much substance. When I do get around to writing I tend to create incomplete top 10 lists or I end up relating incoherent tidbits about banana slugs. The problem with "blog insecurity" is that if you write about it, or share it with others, it sounds like a pathetic ploy to milk compliments from readers. Due to this awkward tendency, I implore everyone to refrain from commenting on this post. In the alternative, if you must say something, make it biting. I don't want to seem like a total loser.

Elaboration: Part of my insecurity probably stems from the fact that I've seen so many awesome blogs in recent days. Chief among them is Veiled Conceit which does a fabulous job chronicling and critiquing the NYT weddings and vows page. I laughed out loud reading some of the Veiled posts. I was also thrilled to see that someone else is as enthralled and disgusted by that section. Perhaps someday I will start a thematic blog - that seems to be hot right now. In other news, if I had the energy I would write about the Supreme Court's Gonzales restraining order decision from earlier this week and about the fact that Oprah was apparently dissed by Hermes in Paris. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to delve into the Gonzales opinion or commentary. I do know that the Gonzales opinion is a dissapointment and will probably write more on that later. As for Oprah's plight, I have little incentive to write about her unfortunate shopping treatment. Sadly, I have not got the money to shop at Hermes so I, personally, won't be boycotting the store anytime soon. To those of you who shop there frequently... think twice.

faux pas

2005-06-28T22:49:00.000-07:00

Or more appropriately, how to avoid two (apparently common) faux pas:
1. When commenting on how someone's legs are strong, do not feel their flexed thighs and then tell them to "flex." This will merely expose them to unending insecurity about flabbiness.
2. Also, when someone says the equivalent of "Damn, I think my butt's getting big!" - do not, under any circumstances, unequivocally agree.

Finally, I want to point my dear readers to two awesome things I learned of today.
1. German people gesture to indicate quotation marks in a funny, and somehow sort of dirty way.
2. This blog, Anonymous Lawyer is quite hilarious.

Thank you, and good night.

alaska looks like an elephant

2005-06-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

(and seven other not-so-deep thoughts that crossed the space between my ears this weekend)...
8. it's true, if you look at a map of the U.S. and focus in on Alaska, it looks sort of like an elephant's head
7. i saw a real live banana slug in santa cruz this weekend. it was totally sweet.
6. banana slugs look more like yellow jalapeno peppers than bananas, or even plaintains.
5. whole foods makes a pretty good rendition of "cherry garcia," albeit a rendition that is somewhat more fruity and (ever so slighty) less fatty than the original.
4. at first i thought that banana slugs were a pretty ridiculous mascot for a school... then i remembered that "maroons" are even more preposterous.
3. you can make your own chocolate croissant (DIY-style) by inserting hershey's chocolate bars into a plain croissant. it's very satisfying.
2. the word re-rar, should really be used more often.
1. today my waitress took forever to come and take my order and i was like "re-rar!"

And finally, to point to some news that has really got me depressed: Richmond has had eight murders in the past two weeks. This news just breaks my heart.

barely awake but blogging

2005-06-19T23:30:00.000-07:00

Written en route to Berkeley from Mpls...

I shouldn't spend 5% of my waning laptop battery charge on pre-blogging while on a flight home, but I don't feel like working on more pressing tasks so, procrastinate I must.

My weekend recap: Before I embark on this oddly personal travelogue I will (bashfully) share some words from… Jennifer Garner in the pages of SELF (the magazine I felt compelled to buy when I couldn't find JANE anywhere in MSP)… From the (paraphrased) mouth of Jennifer: “For me, one of the things that's most important about… relationships is [sharing] in the minutiae of one another's lives.” Like Jennifer, I've found these times (i.e., summer months as of late) to be difficult because every conversation with friends “has to be about catching up.” Perhaps it is that sense of detachment that is subconsciously pushing me to recount my whole weekend for those in the blogosphere. In any event – here goes…

If you’re leaving San Francisco… be sure to pack some food for along the way…
Flew out of SF on Friday night at around 10 p.m. Out of all the airports I’ve visited recently, SFO is truly the pits. Even after spending 12 hours in Albany, NY over New Year's, which was a harrowing and relatively awful experience, I can say with confidence that SFO is one of the most disappointing airports I've been in for quite some time. Yes, it is worse than Albany. Admittedly, some of my disdain is due to the massive construction at the airport but the rest just comes from the natural vibe of the place. The whole airport is inconvenient and usually smells sort of rank. Moreover, the food prices are totally over the top. You'd think that with such little selection vendors might have a heart and lower prices a little bit but NO, they are (behaving like greedy little rational actors and are) out to milk poor travelers for all they're worth. As an illustration, I spent over $10 on one crappy sandwich and a bottle of water. Despite these downsides, I made the most of my time at the forsaken airport by catching up on US Weekly along with all of the clichéd and disturbing news of Tom and Katie, the far inferior "Life in Style" (don’t buy it, there is literally no substance) and the Economist. Question: I wonder if celeb tabloids and the Economist are an unlikely magazine pairing or if many people enjoy my guilty pleasures as well.

Wedding in Indy
Good times were had by all. Although I knew about three people at the event I had a lovely time. The readings at the wedding were darling: Velveteen Rabbit and Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 (?). The bride and groom were fantastic as always and, I must say, the bridesmaids' dresses were cute enough to wear again. I did note, and perhaps this is a misguided observation, that people who went to small liberal arts colleges in the middle of nowhere tend to party harder, drunker, and louder, than most of my friends who have tended to graduate from state schools, nerd emporiums or breeding grounds (i.e. Chicago), or Ivies. I’m sure this mostly stems from selection bias (that is only nerdy nerdalicious nerds choose to go to places like Chicago and as one of those nerds my selection is similiarly biased) and not from actual intrinsic levels of maturity, but this caused me to wonder: Does attending college in (for instance) Nowheresville, PA, naturally instill in alumni an aptitude for crazy dancing, clapping while dancing, and general flirtatiousness?

Northwest Airlines definitely not my fave airline
Oh, NWA, you almost convinced me to get one of your credit cards so I could start accumulating miles to fly home with more cheaply. Now there’s no way. Since when did caterers take over an hour to deliver sodas to a boarded and ready-to-go plane? Since when did you start charging a dollar for sub-par trail mix instead of giving everyone the same mediocre peanuts? Your seats are uncomfortable, your flight attendants mostly unimpressive from what I saw this weekend, and your prices are outrageous. I object.

The best THREE HOUR layover ever!
While at MSP for a long layover I convinced my family to come out and visit. It was so wonderful. They brought me PBJ, yogurt, Dove Chocolate and a water bottle. Everyone came, including my Yia-Yia and my aunt and uncle. My little bro, sadly, was in San Diego en route to Tijuana. As is usual with my family, the whole event was captured on film. My mother even decided that it was critical to document me eating my sandwich. Mouth full and all. These pictures are sure to be fabulous, just like my wacky and delightful clan.

At this point I really must begin doing my work before my battery is completely drained. Adieu.

Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair

2005-06-16T22:13:00.000-07:00

I realized something, all over again, when I recently cut my hair. I really chopped a lot of it off and like the results. It was a good move. No matter what though, whenever I get a haircut, I get a little self-conscious. I believe this all stems from the fact that if you change your 'do, and especially if you make a dramatic change, people are almost required to notice. When most people notice drastic alterations, they also feel obligated to voice their opinion. The thing is, no one ever tells you if your haircut is awful. The only thing you can say is when observing someone's new hairtcut is some variation of "I like your new haircut" (to varying degrees of intensity). Because this is the standard, called-for remark, there is really no way of knowing whether people honestly think you look alright, awesome, or totally doofy. This causes me some concern and makes me very bashful. One might think that ignorance, when it comes to knowing what people think of you, is bliss. Au contraire, mes amis, it's nerve wracking.

On a different note, tonight I watched Gilmore Girls for the first time. It was an old episode, second season perhaps (?) when Rory goes to a school dance. I've more or less sworn off the WB since the second season of Dawson's. However, I have heard good things about the WB as of late from people I deeply respect. People who know television. People like M. Rup. and NRF. Nonetheless, I was skeptical of Gilmore Girls. My tredipidation proved me wrong because the show was kind of awesome. I may be back in the WB fold.

The dialogue, as critcs have acclaimed, really is fast-paced, witty, and real. Overall I was struck by the sort of after-school special feeling of the show. Perhaps a regular viewer can confirm or deny whether this is typical of the show as a whole or just intrinsic to the subject matter of this particular episode... On the other hand, the after-school special characteristics of this episode might have been enhanced by the fact that I watched it with a friend and her 14 year old daughter. Viewing the episode in that setting made me want to own the DVDs when I'm a parent someday. I can just envision sitting my little Dirteeny down to watch this very episode the first time she breaks curfew or doesn't come home. It brings a wee tear to my eye.

Finally, to explain my sudden Gilmore Girls attraction I have to confess that I thought the soundtrack was intriguing. The slow dance was not Keith Sweat circa my Junior High days (now remastered on I Tunes which makes me feel OLD... maybe that song was played in 6th grade? My aging memory fails me...), nor was it 98 degrees or whatever the kids are listening to today. No, the slow dance was Mazzy Star "Fade Into You." What an incongruous choice for a slow dance. TV producers, even Josh Schwartz, can't seem to master the art of an accurate school dance track. On GG, "Fade Into You," was followed by another older slow song (possibly) a la Mazzy Star. I searched in vain for this song, I remember it from ages ago, on Google and I-tunes to no avail. This is really bothering me. Please, GG groupies, send me the title of this song. It is a duet with a male and female singer. Although I suck at deciphering lyrics and usually make up my own (e.g., until two years ago I thought "Glory Days" by Springsteen was "Forty Days." For this I blame too many Sunday School lessons that focused on Noah's Ark or Jesus in the wilderness). Despite my tendency to screw up lyrics, I am virtually certain that the woman sings "You ran away but now you're back" at one juncture. My guess is that this song is featured on other soundtracks too. That is all. Please do assist me in my quest. Many thanks.

Party of Five Things

2005-06-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

Much to some readers' potential dismay this post will have nothing to do with the show from the Nineties featuring Jennifer Love, Neve, Lacey, and some dudes I haven't seen since. I was not a fan of this show and didn't watch it much so thank your lucky stars that I decided not to write about old episodes. I hold out hope that this post will be more interesting than something about PO5.

The folks over at Nuts and Boaltsbrought this to my attention. The object is to "List five things that people in your circle of friends or peer group are wild about, but you can't really understand the fuss over." As pointed out on Nuts and Boalts, this task is significantly more difficult that addressing generally popular crazes. I tend to appreciate what my friends are crazy about but I will give this challenge a try anyway.

1. Newspapers other than NYT and (well the Chicago Tribune and the Star Tribune) I wish I were smart enough to read papers like the Washington Post or the Financial Times. Confession: I bore immediately at the sight of those peach pages. I suppose most of this probably boils down to an affinity for hometown newspapers but I don't see why I should read anything beyond the New York Times. I'm sure this opinion is open to much critique and ridicule but I posit that all the rest of the news that's worth reading is found within the pages of sweet sweet US Weekly. If I could only find my own insider "source" for celebrity gossip I could stop guiltily stocking up on US and In Touch whenever I'm in an airport. On that note, I'm looking forward to my flights this weekend despite the fact that I'm paying a ridiculous amount for approximately 30 hours in one of my less favorite States. I digress.
2. Gin. I swear it tastes like Pine Sol. Disgusting. Perhaps I and gin are something like the poor souls who detest cilantro and claim they don't have "the gene" for it.
3. Fancy cell phones. It's all about functionality people. With digital cameras who needs crappy picture phones? After all, if you're not in LA you're unlikely to run into any celebs on the street. Also, the advent of digital cameras has done nothing but proliferate the number of crappy photos of me. Somehow, on a digital camera it is easier to catch me chewing, with my butt in the air, or generally looking doofy than with conventional cameras. For that reason, cell phone cameras and fancy phones have got to go.
4. Intellectual Property (or fighting that whole notion of IP). To be honest, I'm starting to get this craze. I definitely respect my friends who study the field and know it well. When I came to Boalt though, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
5. Driving. Although I haven't tried driving since I was 15 in a parking lot with an ex, I stand behind my assertion that driving is overrated. While public transportation can be smelly and inconvenient, it instills great virtues of patience, focus, and navigation in its devoted users. I wouldn't trade my AC Transit for a car and am proud of my little baby bike too. Not many of my friends in the Bay Area, or in Minneapolis for that matter drive often, but I am one of the few and proud who don't drive at all. [Hopefully, this will change soon. I've got to learn but want to go out proud.]

trendsetting

2005-06-12T00:04:00.000-07:00

I have never been much of a trendsetter. I never wore a Generra Hypercolor t-shirt in elementary school; never had Guess jeans until they were no longer cool; and I definitely never got to wear British Knight sneakers. In my own way I thought I was awesome in my raspberry colored Converse hi-tops but I was never a "cool kid."

My lack of trendiness carried into High School, College, and beyond. I was way behind the curve on getting a cell phone. again, I thought I was hip for holding out but... in reality I was just out of touch and hard to reach.

Now, I am considering purchasing an i-pod. Until thursday, I thought that _perhaps_ I had hit a trend somewhere near its inception, i.e., early enough to be halfway edgy and noticable. Unfortunately (?), on Thursday I was heading home from work on the BART and sat down in one of those groups of four seats across from a woman with an i-pod. During my recent commutes I have discovered two species of i-pod owners. First, there are the indie kids who are probably rocking out to the Postal Service on their way to a consulting or tech job. Then, there are the older (usually) male professionals who I imagine listen to the Boss or jazz on their way to bank or litigate. My fellow commuter on Thursday was of a whole new breed. She was middle-aged, matronly and carried a cheap knockoff purse. Unlike my "Prado" it was lumpy, brown and relatively un-cute. To my great surprise, in her purse were two "Pink" CDs. She had her i-pod cranked up and was totally dancing along to that terrible music. It was awe-inspiring and ridiculous. It also defeated all of my hopes of breaking into the i-pod trend on the early side. Alas, I am not meant to be cool.

[Sidenote: Who thought it was a good idea to _carpet_ BART? Public transportation naturally tends to the smelly. Carpet retains odors. Together, carpet and trains make one nasty combination. I miss the in-your-face dirt of the CTA and the unmasked dirt on those linoleum floors. CTA definitely smells more often than not but the smells aren't as stale as the ones on the BART.]

[Endnote: Maybe I wasn't allowed to wear British Knight shoes because of their reputed gang connections? That's about as unlikely as the rationale for prohibiting my burning desire to have a golden front tooth... Also, anyone know what size 4.5 (British) is in American shoes? There's a sweet pair of BK trainers on eBay...]

some scattered thoughts and observations over the past few days

2005-06-05T11:11:00.000-07:00

10. My reaction to the following comment = possibly a little overboard: Overheard in reference to either Sandra Day O'Connor or Ruth Bader Ginsburg - "You know, I never hear much about her husband. He must be really confident to marry a woman like her. I mean, can you imagine having to say, 'Yeah, my wife's a Supreme Court Justice?'" Perhaps it's this attitude and this sort of male anxiety about being a breadwinner that keeps corporate America looking the way it does.
9. Biased comments from a former vegetarian: I think, in some cases but not all, people go vegan because it gives them something to talk about... all the time. Needless to say that is sort of a pet peeve. A friend offered another interpretation which I also find valid. She thought that the choice to go vegan and consequent obsessive chatter about that choice can be a good cover for a serious eating disorder. GP.
8. Wine tasting snobbiness from a 2 buck chuck girl at heart: Napa ain't got nothing on Sonoma. Although I visited Sonoma with my darling roommates on a weekday, which automatically gave it an edge over crowded Napa on Saturday, in my opinion Sonoma is sweeter, smaller, greener, and in most cases tastier than Napa.
7. Cowboy Ninja Bear: Deserves the hype. Courtesy of this site the rules of the game are: i) Cowboy beats Bear (because of his pistol), ii) Ninja beats Cowboy (his stealth allows him to kill the Cowboy in his bunk), and iii) Bear beats Ninja (it's a bear, end of story).
6. Possibly the sweetest website ever: One of my former economics professors, Steve Levitt, has been getting a lot of favorable press on his new book, "Freakonomics." I hope to read it soon so I was checking out more reviews on the book's home page. On that page there was a link to his blog which took me to this phenomenal site, The Baby Name Wizard. I could play with this gadget for hours. You type in names (even just the first few letters to see a cluster) and can gauge the popularity of the name over the past century of American babymaking history. Dirtina did not make the list. Dirk, its closest cousin peaked in the 1960s at number 471. I was disappointed to see that my choice name for a potential future daughter is on the upswing but happy to note that the probable name of my first born son is still pretty darn archaic.
5. I should stop playing with this name generator and help jdm pack his room in boxes.
4. I am hungry so I'm going to stop now.
3. This top ten list will remain incomplete. Sorry.

things are looking up

2005-05-30T15:27:00.000-07:00

posting about less than wonderful occurences in my life has taught me a new lesson. don't write about things online that worry your friends and family. while i greatly appreciate the concern expressed by lizardo and some other dear ones, please, rest assured that i am doing better than when i last posted

on that note, i have decided to write very little about anything serious and will instead highlight a blog i recently stumbled upon. i'll also give you all a little insight into what i have been eating lately. i do this because i know you care.

and BLOGGER JUST STOLE MY post again...

in my frustration and sleepiness i will not tell you about the deliciousness of creme fraiche pancakes at la note in downtown berkeley. although my dad's breakfast conconctions take the proverbial cake these are a close second. likewise, i won't tell you all about the wonders of thai temple brunch in front of the berkeley tool lending library. you'll never get to hear about just how phenomenal mango sticky rice is on a sunday morning.

what you, dear reader, will get is just one link to a blog that inspired all of these aborted gustatory reflections. eat your heart out.

"Dirtina and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day"

2005-05-25T22:02:00.000-07:00

my day started off relatively well. stress-free commute. sunshine.
even at lunch things were going all right. one pesky pigeon kept trying to get a piece of my chicken sandwich but other than that it was actually pretty swell. it even closed with gelato. can't complain.
shortly after this little lunch it went seriously down hill.

i feel totally and stressfully swamped at work.
i hit my head (really hard) on my desk when i bent over to pick up the code books that had just fallen from my shelf, on to the table, and on to the floor, nearly spilling my coffee all over my work.
as a result of this mishap my head hurts. in addition to the attractive bump on my forehead, i spent awhile sobbing on the phone with my mom later (related primarily to other events see infra) and now have dried out and bleary eyes as a nice accessory for the forehead fashion.
i came home exhausted to find that my key doesn't work in the deadbolt. i was locked out.
i waited for the locksmith freezing, hungry, and badly needing to pee for about 40 minutes.
my partner (and not the one at the law firm - the one known as jdm) has mono.
one of my great-uncles died.

so here i am whining, when things are actually much worse for other folks and people i love.
i hate feeling like my mood is on a sinking, downward spiral.

i want to go to bed.

Are you there God? It's me, Dirtina.

2005-05-24T21:46:00.000-07:00

Ever since my early days in college my aunt has provided me with an annual subscription to Vogue. It's a wonderful gift as it's truly the gift that keeps on giving: it arrives every month, and so far, without fail. It's also an improbable gift for a girl like me. I'm no fashionista. I shop the sales rack, or Goodwill. The only time I've come close to touching anything couture-esque was when I tried on a fetching Marc Jacobs miniskirt at Century 21. I balked at the skirt's $90 price tag and settled instead for the (now infamous) G-unit camisole. In any event, my monthly mag is a lovely guilty pleasure.

Today on my commute home from work I was paging through Vogue and came across a surprising ad. Random House Publishing is sponsoring a contest to promote what appears to be the reissuing of the entire Judy Blume canon. For starters, this is a weird advertisement for Vogue. It's definitely something of an outsider in a magazine that is chock-full of Prada, Tiffanys, and Cadillac. It reads at the top "ARE YOU PART OF GENERATION BLUME?" After some glowing reviews of Blume's books it explains that "one grand-prize winner will win a trip to have lunch with Judy Blume." The contest entails writing a 250-word essay on which Judy Blume book had the biggest impact on your life and how it affected you.

I had never considered myself to be a member of "Generation Blume." I was more of a Laura Ingalls Wilder, Encyclopedia Brown, Anastasia Krupnick, and Madeleine L'Engle fan. However, looking back on the Blume memories I do have, a few were somewhat formative. I read "Deenie" when bored one day at my grandparents' house as a preteen. It was, bizarrely, the only book I could find in their house that wasn't on Orthodox theology or WWII. It actually seemed pretty adult to me then since it addressed scoliosis and masturbation. As a younger kid I also recall reading, but not really enjoying, the Superfudge books. The only Blume book that spoke to me was "Are you there God? It's me Margaret?" The first time I read it I was unimpressed. Then, as a first year at Chicago my roommate decided to hold storytime every night with some of our favorite housemates. Our literary choice was none other than "Are you there God?" It was a hit. Irreverent and nostalgic, we filled our evenings with the trauma of bra-stuffing in place of Calculus and stupid dating drama.

Thank you Vogue, thank you Random House and thank you Judy B for this unexpected trip down memory lane. Perhaps if I find time (which I would have more of if Blogger would stop eating my posts) I'll enter this little contest. I could use a free trip to NYC.

[Note: Hallelujah - I'm back on wireless. Procrastination and posting - here I come.]

CLASS: the OC and being a summer associate

2005-05-19T23:03:00.000-07:00

tonight's season ending episode of the OC was totally insane. without giving too much away, suffice it to say, that in the real world, for what marissa cooper just did she would likely end up in the California Youth Authority. fortunately for her, she's richer than rich and will surely buy herself out of doing any time. of course she'll be represented by sandy and things will turn out fine. maybe somehow she'll prevail on an unlikely but successful "defense of third persons" theory. other theories, including battering and its effects, seem like longshots and the prosecution could probably rip them to shreds. hopefully, sandy's near certain defense of marissa will bring him back to the public defenders office. then the OC at Boalt's fellowship, "The Sandy," might inspire even more attention and donations.

reflecting on the romances between sandy and kiki, caleb and julie, and ryan and marissa (and marissa and DJ for that matter) brought me to a recent series of articles in the NYT. the series is on class and thus far (i've only skimmed) but i've found it compelling. the suggested readings are also quite good - i highly recommend the biting and humorous Paul Fussell book "Class: A Guide Through American Status Systems."

although the OC does a relatively wretched job problematizing notions of class and especially race (see e.g., the only roles which people of color have played being teenage mother and high school dropout, gardener, highschool principal [as somewhat of an outlier], and as of tonight, drug dealers), it is perhaps quite accurate that such issues are swept under the rug on a routine basis. from the most recent NYT piece on cross-class marriages:

Marriages that cross class boundaries may not present as obvious a set of challenges as those that cross the lines of race or nationality. But in a quiet way, people who marry across class lines are also moving outside their comfort zones, into the uncharted territory of partners with a different level of wealth and education, and often, a different set of assumptions about things like manners, food, child-rearing, gift-giving and how to spend vacations. In cross-class marriages, one partner will usually have more money, more options and, almost inevitably, more power in the relationship.

It is not possible to say how many cross-class marriages there are. But to the extent that education serves as a proxy for class, they seem to be declining. Even as more people marry across racial and religious lines, often to partners who match them closely in other respects, fewer are choosing partners with a different level of education. While most of those marriages used to involve men marrying women with less education, studies have found, lately that pattern has flipped, so that by 2000, the majority involved women, like Ms. Woolner, marrying men with less schooling - the combination most likely to end in divorce.

this is both fascinating and sad. class and caste are so entrenched in american society and with the costs of (even) public education skyrocketing, soon yet more people will be priced out of anything beyond a high school education. i may have found a new crusade? all of this (sorry for being so disjointed) also caused me to think a bit about my summer corporate job. without waxing poetic or saying much more - i am a bit uncomfortable with it all. everything is SO nice. i haven't paid for lunch yet whereas last summer it was treat and big expense to buy myself a $2 sandwich. people i've met recently have criticized the (admittedly dirty and run-down) downtown SF greyhound station, on multiple occassions. i find it hard to join in these conversations since that station is home to at least a few of my former clients.

on a lighter note, some of my summer thus far has still been on par with my budget last year at this time. i've slept in a sleeping bag - or on a bare mattress the past three nights, but only because i'm moving. my fridge is busted. i still take the cheap bus. my summer soundtrack tonight includes my roommate packing and listening to sublime. that band, however, is reminiscent not of last summer but of a relationship in 10th grade.

speaking of relationships, i should have spent the time i spent rambling here catching up on emails that have been waiting for responses for weeks. if you are waiting on an email from me, my apologies. next week - i promise i'll work on that task. for now, if you'd like, respond with your reflections on class, your predictions for sandy's defense of marissa, and/or your favorite music from sophomore year of high school.

alive and caffeinated

2005-05-19T22:12:00.000-07:00

monday i started my summer job and i've been trying to move all at the same time. it's been hectic. mad props to castro and manceratops for helping me out yesterday. sorry for all the dust. i wish i had free coffee at home instead of a stinky fridge and malfunctioning dryer. the perks of firm life are varied and plentiful. more on that later. anyway, i wanted to let anyone who was looking for new material know that i am still here. soon, i'll be back on a regular basis. perhaps, if i can't sleep i'll even be back soon.

the ULTIMATE commercial

2005-05-13T11:57:00.000-07:00

i spent the last couple days tasting wine in the lovely russian river valley near lake sonoma. it was almost too good to be true. it was definitely indulgent, extremely relaxing, and far more chi-chi-la-la than anything i ever anticipated doing at age 23. my roommates and i got all dressed up, we ate amazing homemade tamales, had a cathartic cry at dinner, gorged on olives and cheese, and even listened to surprisingly good radio. it included pat benatar and journey (twice). all was blessed and all was right with the world. the truly amazing thing was that we didn't spend much money. one of my awesome roommates got us a deal at her parents' timeshare so we cooked some meals for ourselves and spent about $10 on lodging. i wish i had one more week of this before starting work.

anyway, although i should probably write about wine, instead i bring you a commercial from "Michelob Ultra". i cannot begin to express how hilarious i find michelob ultra. the fact that they market this BEER as a sports beverage is quite amusing. it seems that they are trying to get their consumers to believe that by drinking their beer they will develop not beer guts but the impeccably tanned and toned "six-packs" featured in their advertisements. the simple gym workouts never spoke to me but now that they've included a ridiculously silly game of ultimate in their ads - i might be persuaded to try this (in all likelihood) foul beverage. note how people are playing ultimate in virtually no clothing which would suck to layout in, note the fouls, the silly showboating, and the fancy and improbable passes. my friend MC putt-putt also pointed out the fact that there was no line call. as if that would happen in ultimate - ever. oh no, people would squabble and moan about the call for a loong time. how i miss this sport.

i'll have document review and a deposition to go

2005-05-11T09:06:00.000-07:00

although i am excited to go shopping today for corporate clothing and i am looking forward to my summer job, i would prefer to spend my money on say, an iPod, sneakers, or non-fancy clothes.

while musing about this i started to think about the benefits of uniforms. while i've never had to wear one, for school or any of my jobs (with the exception of SW Community School where i had to wear their sticky 50-50 t-shirts while teaching candlemaking of all things in horribly humid July), i think uniforms have some distinct advantages. if i could wear a something like a fast food uniform of a polo shirt and ill-fitting pants to work every day this summer i would save even more money. perhaps firms could express their character through their uniforms - it would add in yet another variable to those OCIP bidding decisions.

whew

2005-05-11T00:43:00.000-07:00

after a brief blogging hiatus which involved the heart-wrenching editing of a painful 48 hour take-home exam along with healthy doses of chorizo, gelato, and vodk-o (with an "o" it sounds like a Shop-Ko version of the Russian staple or like my lovely "designer" handbag - "Prado") - i am soon to be a 3L. it is good to be done. tomorrow i'm off to the mall and then to wine country for roommate bonding. at some point i will put my life in boxes for the summer and move. hopefully, in the process i will further streamline my earthly possessions. going shopping tomorrow will surely impede my progress on that front.

some links i visited recently which are worthy of checking out:

artmuck (some posts by a childhood friend now located in chicago)
kill the vultures (the newest release by a childhood friend now located in chicago)

and, in case you didn't see this coming - proof that i (sort of) wish i were located in chicago...
note: chicago was my best fit even though i indicated that fitness is important to me (and we all know chi-town is phat, i mean fat) and even when i put the west as my preference instead of the midwest.

>

American Cities That Best Fit You:

80% Chicago

65% Los Angeles

65% Philadelphia

60% Honolulu

55% New York City

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

after school specials

2005-05-05T23:26:00.001-07:00

If an episode of the OC ever needed some preachy advice-giving or should have offered episode-ending referrals, it was this one. In my opinion Sandy should have mentioned RAINN and for Kiki's sake Alcoholics Anonymous. I think I'm still experiencing secondary trauma. The episode was so intense. I'd offer you predictions about the next episode but I fear spoiling things for readers who haven't yet seen tonight's show.

In other news, the always wily jdm beat me to the punch but if someone can explain the value of my "blogShares," I'd really appreciate it. I am oddly inspired to do whatever I can to raise this piece of cheese's value.

2 finals down - one (annoyingly two-part) final left to go.

one year of "care not cash"

2005-05-04T22:37:00.000-07:00

today marked the one year anniversary of mayor newsom's "care not cash" program. i happened to catch a glimpse of an article on point in the SF examiner while waiting in line at the post office. later, i picked up my own copy. "notably," the examiner's front page advertised a story about "what's on the mayor's iPod." the short story on care not cash was on page four and unfortunately, critiques of the program were given short shrift. newsom is patting himself on the back for cutting cash aid to SF general assistance recipients and is busily lauding the fact that about 800 GA recipients have been placed in permanent housing.

last i heard, GA rolls post-CNC haddrastically declined. however, the actual statistics do not reveal such a glowing picture of people getting housed. rather, the numbers seem to indicate that in the first six months of CNC's implementation, the department of human services actually lost over half of their "active homeless clients.'' meanwhile, only 493 of the 2,497 clients who were on GA in april 2004 had moved into housing as of october 2004. [to check out these numbers click on the link above and open the "care not cash monthly statistical report - march 2005"].

i think a healthy dose of skepticism is in order when it comes to newsom's policy on homelessness. right now i'm too disheartened to say much more. for more critique see this article.

blogger's "recover post" feature is a LIE

2005-05-04T22:16:00.000-07:00

i'm super frustrated right now because blogger promised to recover my lost posts and it failed. boo.

tonight's episode of ANTM was actually quite good. admittedly, i would have been entertained by anything other than my take-home exam which has been staring me down from the face of my normally friendly laptop all day. despite my (generally) low standards for television and in particular UPN, this episode had a lot to offer.

for one thing, the contestant judging contestant feature exposed a lot of character and attitude. the two highlights of the show were brittany's hot mud shot and the fact that christina was finally eliminated. keenyah's snotty 'tude vindicated my general dislike for her. previously, my only real reason for disliking keenyah was her oddly crooked jawline. i, with my doubly-broken nose, am certainly not the right person to call someone out for facial asymmetry. however, i am not trying to become america's next top model. i fail to understand how tyra's silly judges have not recognized her bizarre jawline protrusion. evidence of this phenomenon is all over the internet. see e.g., television without pity, seven caged tigers, girl genius.... i grow weary of compiling citations but offer one "but see" elle.com for a short but favorable assessment of keenyah's jaw.

and, in case anyone cares, my bet is that keenyah is next to go. moreover, naima will definitely win now that her personality is shining through and the producers showed photos of her as a little girl. this was just the type of foreshadowing the producers used with eva last season. now if covergirl would just cancel eva's contract i'd be pleased as punch. those "day in the life" commercials are so annoying.

to drink or not to drink: also some thoughts on "diversity"

2005-05-03T22:32:00.000-07:00

i was so wiped out today. over the weekend i studied to a point of exhaustion and overload for my exam yesterday. despite my best efforts to prepare adequately, it was totally and awfully difficult. today my brain was still fried so i ran errands most of the day. i went down to fourth street on my bike which was lovely. i wrapped a present in brown paper. i made a cd filled with songs for moving. i drank a homemade smoothie with pomegranate juice as a super secret and tasty ingredient. i "studied" in north berkeley and borrowed a dollar for coffee from a liquor store employee who, despite his best efforts, did not convince me to drink wine while "preparing for my take-home exam." i had entered the store, cash poor, in search of an ATM thinking that virtually all liquor stores house ATMs along with their selections of fine wine, cheap 40s, courvoisier, jager. some liquor stores even have ATMs which will read and withdraw cash from food stamp EBT cards. sadly, these are the sort of ATMS that also tack on at least three dollar service charges. this liquor store, in contrast to its peers, had no ATMs of any variety. the kind clerk suggested that i purchase some alcohol and get cash back. i declined. he offered to buy me the coffee i so desired and i declined again. finally, i was persuaded to borrow a dollar so long as i would buy the coffee from the small place next door and smuggle it to the larger shop down the street with better seating. this turned out to be excellent advice. the coffee from the tiny shop was both cheaper and more delicious than the joe next door.

my day continued, more or less uneventfully. i'll spare you the details but close with some thoughts from a former RA on university housing. just today i read an article in the "maroon" about one of my many former dormitories. in it, broadview was (somewhat) accurately described as a "insular lunatic themed" dorm. although i agreed with the general characterization of broadview, i can't stand behind the rest of the article which lambasts multicultural housing for enforcing segregation. the author's call for diversity as part of the "college challenge" is all well and good but seems to place an undue burden on students of color to be the token faces of diversity for "stuck-up Manhattan girls." this seems misplaced and would appear to equate all people of color by saying that viewpoints within minority communities are all the same, and that diversity cannot exist among ethnic groups. since these multicultural houses, at cornell and, i believe, at berkeley too, are open to anyone - i can't see a problem with them. if multicultural housing is really going to lead campuses down the path of resegregation, concerned folks like this author can simply move in. for more on this topic look here.

tatted: from thug to hug life

2005-05-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

an old ultimate compatriot once closed his emails with the tag line "hug life: nobody's perfect but we do OK." i was thinking about the origins of the phrase "hug life" and my train of thoughts brought me to Tupac. 2-Pac had some vicious tattoos. my personal favorite was the large "THUG LIFE" tatted across his abs. check out some pictures here and here. i learned from these fine sites that the "I" in "Life" is actually a bullet.

in any event, i've thought about getting a tattoo for a long time. unfortunately, i made the mistake of disclosing my best idea to someone who later returned to show me my tattoo on her cliched ankle. that killed that plan.

with the knowledge that i will never actually get this tattoo i'll disclose a recent idea. (you probably saw this coming.) drawing my inspiration from 2-Pac i'd like to get a huge tattoo on my abs in gothic letters that reads "hug life." that would be beyond hot.

my urban superiority complex: st. louis park is NOT minneapolis

2005-04-30T23:57:00.000-07:00

after an inspiring conversation with a professor yesterday i believe i have solved my course conundrum for next year. why should i suffer through estates and trusts when: a) allegedly i've already learned some of the material in California Marital Property; b) the class is from 6:00-9:00pm - an ungodly time to be at school; c) the course will be taught for the bar exam; and d) it sounds ridiculously boring? at first, estates & trusts seemed like a great idea because it would be a class that entailed little work and would allow me to devote more time to intense classes like tax. now i've realized that i have only two semesters left in school. i'm going to take classes that actually interest me. hah! i can indulge my interests, get a JD, and (God willing) pass the bar.
hopefully, in line with this plan, i'll get into a new class on the suburbs. i have grown up as such an "urban" snob. although minneapolis is by no means a bustling (or unsegregated) metropolis, i took great pride in the fact that i grew up "in the city" instead of in a suburb. i still really value my childhood home because i had the benefit of living in a neighborhood with great public schools, very few chain & big box stores, and convenient public transportation. i still resent when people ask me where i'm from and when i reply "minneapolis," they say, "oh, i know someone from minneapolis. they live in [roseville, edina, st. cloud]. where exactly are you from?"
although i have this lingering superiority complex about being from a city - my thoughts have changed some in recent years. for one thing, i live in a suburb now. also, it's common knowledge that in minneapolis, and elsewhere, inner cities are rapidly gentrifying. renovated and refurbished lofts are cropping up everywhere. warehouse districts are hot. this trend is pushing poor folks out to the first and second ring suburbs and beyond. for some statistics on point check out this article. i want to learn more about how this has impacted voting, affordable housing, the environment, and service delivery. how have non-profits (especially legal non-profits outside of the bay area) responded to this shift in localized poverty? my hunch (and observation) is that direct service agencies have been slow to catch up.

OC outage outrage

2005-04-28T22:38:00.000-07:00

for me (and probably many of us) it is always distressing to see GW on primetime television. either a national catastrophe has occured or the state of the union is interrupting perfectly good programming. (there are exceptions to this general rule: i was addicted to the presidential debates which were admittedly broadcast during primetime)

tonight, el presidente's face on my TV signified something new and horrible. our president held a press conference over the OC. i was dumbfounded. shaken to my core. all week i had been looking forward to the new episode. with nothing but the rules of impeachment and rehabilitation to inspire me during the day i needed some drama between some sandy and kirsten, some hot trey action...

even more distressing than the preemption of the show in the first place was the fact that it all seemed entirely unnececssary. first, gas prices aren't my thing. i don't drive. i can't drive. i should probably try to care more (and in reality, i do) but tonight i am bitter. [note to self -- i should also get my driver's license.] secondly, my roommate noted these words on the top left hand side of the TV screen during the presidential address: "LIVE - recorded earlier."

now what in the world does that mean? how is something "live" if it was in fact recorded earlier in the day? why, WHY, did stupid FOX have to show this tape during MY show?

enough - back to the books.

live!

2005-04-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

Why is it that people who either never talk or typically ask insightful questions decide that review sessions are the perfect time to ask INANE questions? I suppose the empathetic answer is that these people are anxious but seriously, can we curb asking totally obvious questions? If the Professor gives you a handout about what the rules for the exam will be, read the freaking handout before asking if it means what it says. Oy!

cooptation

2005-04-26T22:58:00.000-07:00

one of the problems with blogging is that if you deem to write about something other than yourself, such as current events, you have to move fast. if you don't post quickly you run the risk of being old news. with that duly noted i will write on a current event. because i don't feel like i have much time, this likely won't be all that thoughtful...

this past sunday was "Justice Sunday" for folks affiliated with Focus on the Family and Family Research Council. apparently it was also "Justice Sunday" for "people of faith" in the Heartland who are realizing that "actions in Washington have a direct impact on their lives." without getting into the deeply troubling notions of the campaign against filibustering and the misplaced concerns about judicial activism, let's stop with the words -- "Justice Sunday."

i am blown away by the fact that these judicial activists are claiming "justice" as their own. on a larger scale i am outraged by how a certain right-wing faction of Christians have laid claim to my faith. my faith which i hope is not so essentializing, which i hope humanizes and helps me to see God in others, and that tends to favor non-interference with the State. what's harder about all of this, on a personal level, is that in one-on-one conversations i am more hesitant than ever to bring up the fact that I'm a Christian. it's as though (at least in Berkeley) i'm hiding a dark secret.

on that depressing note, i'll add another. i think i lost my watch. this is also distressing though not as much as the Religious Right.

and the award for...

2005-04-26T11:23:00.000-07:00

worst "you're on hold" music ever goes to...

alameda county department of child support services. No, you couldn't just play elevator music, you had to add the world's cheesiest lyrics. Why did you make me wait to speak to an operator for so unbearably long??

study break

2005-04-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com! Please note that in one part of this quiz I erroneously used the name "Emily" to refer to myself. I got the link to the site where you can create these quizzes from Emily S and used a few of her questions as starting points for my own. For purposes of this quiz, consider Emily to be one of my (many) aliases.

ligers, and panples, and porn-viruses oh my!

2005-04-21T23:46:00.000-07:00

a few things:
1. see infra comment from my sis at previous post regarding the link i sent her from reputable (?) news source (ABC) proving that the liger actually exists. Now, although I didn't believe the Liger actually existed when I saw Napoleon Dynamite, I never would have believed that the "Tigon" (when the mother instead of the dad is the ligon) was also real. Despite the awesomeness of the Liger and Tigon, the Wholphin was even more astounding.
2. I really don't want this piece of web-space to devolve into postings solely devoted to my favorite TV shows. However, that desire won't stop me from referring to the OC tonight. A-mazing episode. Zach is the reincarnation of Oliver, minus the mental illness and guns. [I almost said minus the violence but we all remember when he punched Seth earlier this season...] Kirsten is emulating her son in her self-absorbtion and ridiculous crushes. I understand that she is probably still hurting from Sandy's dalliance with his old flame Rebecca, but please - Carter? He is incredibly lame and his silly nose moves every time he talks. I could go on but I'd rather end with this astute observation from my future roomie - "Zach aka Prince Humperdink."
3. Almost every day I thank God for my Macintosh. [I would say every day but for the fateful afternoon in Contracts last Spring when my screen went all Matrix on me right before finals. Turned out the "logic board" was cracked. My computer took a quick jaunt down to Virginia and came back days later clean as a whistle and working perfectly. I guess that's another good reason to love Apple.] Oh, i-book, why are you so good to me? I bring this up not just because Panther comes out in 8 days but because one of my PC using friends has a porn-virus infesting her computer. She as much as turns it on and some seriously disturbing images infiltrate her screen. This doesn't make much sense to me. Admittedly, I haven't seen the images, but I don't know why this type of spyware or virus or whatever seemed like a good idea. What revenue would hackers get from such a device? What's the motive behind this?
4. Finally, I thought I was done with the OC but I'm not. You've got to love a show that helps you "review" for Professional Responsibility and Evidence all in one little episode. Sandy acted as a negotiator, an advisor, and of course, a key player in a sting operation. Trey's statement to the police appeared to be an admission, and probably a declaration against interest. Finals HHere I come.

i am not a hipster and i miss home

2005-04-18T23:18:00.001-07:00

Certain blog servers allow you to post what hot tunes you happen to be listening to while you blog. That feature fails to impress me. Although I appreciate knowing what sort of mood my fellow bloggers happen to be in, it seems like a shameless way to display hipness. Since I tend to post when I am fully exhausted I am typically listening to one of two things as of late: Evan Dando or Caedmons Call. In anticipation of "Lila Sings to Jesus" I have also been partaking of some Donnie McClurkin. Now that we have that out of the way, none of you will ever have to hear about my unremarkable musical taste again. (Who am I kidding, I can make no promises but... I can guarantee that you will not have frequent updates. This is because I care. And probably because I am bashful about my unhipness.)

Snooping around online today while I should have been studying I came across two blogs of some pals from Mpls (see links to Mr. $elb and Berge Dynamite). It was so wonderful to get a brief glimpse into the daily lives of folks I miss. Reading their posts made me miss home. I am nostalgic for lakes, for melting snow (note: definitely NOT snow itself), and for the comfort of a neighborhood that I saw change for 17 years. The only perceptible change I have observed in Berkeley over the past year and a half is the advent of more and more Bubble Tea Chains. I think, after close and scientific survey studies, that Q-Cup really is the best. Something about their tapioca is sweeter than the other places.

Speaking of food, awhile ago jdm wrote about his penchant for oatmeal with... cheese. I love cheese. Make no mistake about it, I adore cheese. However, I cannot support eating cheese with just anything. Oatmeal is among the substances that I think should stay far from the fromage. However, in an effort to seem less judgmental I will share one of my new and odd favorite snacks: peach-applesauce with whipped cream. It is so so good. Try it. If you cannot track down chi chi organic peach & applesauce probably any applesauce will do.

downers

2005-04-13T22:37:00.001-07:00

1. I was all psyched today because I finally became a Lexis Nexis "Elite Member." Then I read this. Glad I don't have stock in their company... or any stock at all for that matter...
2. My picks for America's Next Top Model have definitely gone to pot. I have no hope of winning the pool. Crazy Tyra went ahead and eliminated 2 of my top 5 tonight. Go UPN for not using Taye Diggs for another "acting" episode and for actually conceiving of a "surprise" ending.

2005-04-13T19:23:00.000-07:00

Last night I was sad about my sorry lack of conjuctions on this blog. Just as I was wallowing in pity, I thought of a book Un Gunk (Richard) bought long ago. Although it is annoying to lack conjunctions, it is hard (no difficult, trying, impossibl...) to blog without making an input from a spot on my laptop b/w (cop-out) W and R. This author has a book (!!) without that wily and ubiquitous symbol. Most amazingly, a translator took what was first in Francais and put it into Anglais! Look at this link for additional appraisal and analysis.

trade-offs

2005-04-12T23:41:00.000-07:00

If blogging has done one thing for me in the past few inaugural weeks it has made me less prone to spend my late evenings reflecting on stuff. I realize that is sort of a nonsensical remark given that what I am writing here is ostensibly reflective (and apostrophe-free). However, I find that when I blog I spend most of my time trying to think of something funny or witty to say. Most of the time I fail. Rarely, if ever, do I end up talking about things that bother me on a deep level or share with the blogosphere any little joys in my life.

On that note, I will share a joyful soundbite. In my externship (silly law school word for internship) I had been having a difficult time working with a client. I felt our communication was stifled. I knew that there was little openness between us. Recently, I reread some of my earlier notes pertaining to the case and had a pretty eye opening reaction to how much this particular client was facing in life. Just a ton of obstacles and a lot of barriers. I think at the root of it, this was a humbling moment. It was exactly what I needed. This shift in my perspective is working to change me. Perhaps in that process it will also transform the relationship. I had thought about humility and lawyering before, but had not been able to put it into practice. Hopefully I can integrate it into other aspects of my life too.

If only I could integrate productivity into my life I would be set!

ah transience.

2005-04-10T23:43:00.000-07:00

[Disclaimer: Sorry for the lack of apostrophes in this post. You may notice a distinct lack of conjuctions. Lately when I try to write on blogger.com the server will not let me post what I have written. In an effort to avoid that frustration, I am writing on word and then pasting into blogger.]

I briefly considered making this into a top 10 list since I received a request to include more of those on my blog. Since this top 10 list would have enumerated things I hate doing, I figured I could stand to complain about only one or two things instead of whining about ten. On the other hand, this will go into significantly more detail than a mere top ten list and for that, I apologize.

So, by my calculations I have moved about nine times in the last six years. This is getting really really old. To rub salt in my wounds, various friends of mine in far off Midwestern lands are buying houses while I scrounge to collect on security deposits. Although I am disenchanted with my latest search for summer housing, I have benefited from the distraction of Craigslist once again. In case you have never checked out the various subsections on the Craigslist website I encourage you to explore the strictly platonic section. There are some disturbing, intriguing, and all around weird things getting posted there. It is a cross section of some strictly sad and lonely posts and some serious searching for community. I have nothing more profound to say than that. I simply cannot stop reading. Oh, and if you are looking to cheat (?) on your spouse or get high in San Ramon, look no further. Feel free to share other gems.

breaking news

2005-04-09T16:55:00.000-07:00

1. berkeley students use stanford's libraries by mereley presenting UCB ID.
2. stanford student seen walking through campus on sunny saturday afternoon loudly singing seal's "a kiss from a rose."
3. world's BEST phone message left by afh for jdm regarding lack of cell phone capabilities
4. dirtina has enticing sublet offer for summer
5. dirtina, known for her ability to procrastinate on saturdays, ekes out a couple solid hours of productive hearsay review

mario

2005-04-09T00:46:00.000-07:00

no, i'm not talking about "saved by the bell" although i could if pressed. instead, i'm reflecting both on how much my civ pro teacher resembled mario and how i never ever learned how to play any video games. the only exception is "burger time." ah how i long for the days in helly's basement when my biggest enemies were eggs and pickles... to this day i can sing all the tunes from super mario brothers but would be at a total loss if i were asked to play the game. this lack of confidence in playing has cost me a lot. namely, i'm typing here, tired and somewhat inebrieated while others rock out to FIFA...

i may confine my future children to watching exclusively PBS but never (ever) will i withhold from them sega, nintendo, or PS2.

dance

dance

revolution

i'm not better than you, i just act like i am

2005-04-06T23:37:00.000-07:00

This entire week, I have been one day ahead of myself. My days have been so consumed with pesky administrative tasks and running from one thing to another that I've honestly gone to bed, for instance, on Tuesday, fully thinking that I would wake up to Thursday and all of its ensuing responsibilities.

As I write this though, I regret it. Far too often people (myself included) bemoan the predicaments they've deliberately gotten themselves into. The way I see it, people respond to this in one of two ways. [Disclaimer: I'm talking specifically about law students here because those are the folks I'm surrounded by on a daily basis.]
1. Talk about how much they study or how hard they're working in order to make you [the listener] feel guilty about how they aren't doing nearly enough work.
2. Talk about how much they DON'T study and how they're busy doing a million other things so you [the listener] feel guilty about how you occasionally have to time to study or (gasp) relax.
I want to be more conscious of this tendency in myself and shy completely away from trying to put myself in a subjectively superior position in respect to others. Hence, I ask any readers who catch me exhibiting this attitude to call me out.

And, on a lighter note - my bets for ANTM are already awash despite the fact that I only ranked my finalists today. I had suspected that the judges would finally get a clue and eliminate the whiny and wrestle-y Michelle. Unfortunately, they made the awful decision to eliminate Lluvy - the endearing, strangely beautiful, janitor from Modesto. On that hometown note, I am bummed that Rebecca is from Minnesota - she gives the whole state a prissy, and Girl Scouty vibe...

yogurt: you are my obsession

2005-04-03T21:58:00.000-07:00

on our walk home from "a$$tronomicos" the other day jdm and i began to ponder a life without fancy and delicious yogurt. if i were ever to move to a place without Wallaby, or God forbid, without Brown Cow yogurt, my quality of life would seriously decline. in anticipation (and fear) of such a dismal day, jdm and i wrote a protest song. this goes to the tune of "A Mighty Fortress is our God" and could be sung outside a major grocery store along with other picketing Brown Cow aficionados:

A mighty yogurt is Brown Cow
Its flavors never fail us
So healthy, sweet, and wholesome
None other's as delicious

But Yoplait's all that's here
Brown Cow's not to be found
We won't settle for less
We'll seek it without rest
On earth is not its equal

Needless to say, it's been quite a weekend.

for the benefit of m. roop.

2005-04-02T01:20:00.000-08:00

these are (evidently) the top 5 songs i want to hear when i am drunk and totally exhausted.

1. jadakiss - why
2. usher - nice and slow
3. james - laid
4. de la soul - me, myself, and i
5. aimee mann - deathly

also, i totally wanted to write about schiavo yesterday but now i feel that i am foreclosed. perhaps i'll work on that tomorrow. for now, i'm sorry and sad to hear of her death. that's all.

wireless in class: blessing or curse?

2005-03-31T00:26:00.000-08:00

Today students at Boalt received an email from our Dean. In pertinent part:

1. I am very pleased to announce that, at long last, serious wireless has come to Boalt -- in all classrooms except 100 -- and all classrooms finally have electric power to the seats. We have now surpassed Haas School of Business in our wireless access, and have the largest installation on campus.

This announcement came a bit late as I discovered the blissful existence of classroom wireless at least three weeks ago in Room 100 while dying to read more about ANTM and check my email in class one evening. At first I thought that the advent of wireless in all my classrooms was pure goodness. Certainly the service has improved in the library which is undoubtedly positive. Now, I'm beginning to wonder if the goodness is pure, but more like... cocaine is pure. I think I'm hopelessly addicted. It's becoming more and more difficult to stay engaged with old doctrines, obsolete case law, and general class discussion when I can read the news and correspond. I fear that unless I can curb the desire to sign on, this might seriously impact my grades. Even though I'm starting to question the wisdom behind this wireless invasion, I've got to admit it's provided some moments of pure hilarity. Yesterday my seatmate and I were merrily multitaksing (emailing, listening, and taking the occassional note) when someone IMed her with full sound effects. The only thing that was louder than the IM noise was her frantic reaction.

In other Boalt news, the law school rankings have been updated. Boalt Shool (sic) of Law is now #11 despite the spelling error on the very front of our building. For more info check out "Nuts and Boalts" to which I'm adding a link to this blog since it provides regular updates on happenings (at least among 1Ls) at Boalt.