The Power of Taste
Tonight, thanks to my brother, E and I had pasta a la carbonara con carne di cervo.
Carne di cervo (aka venison) is a delicacy that I never ate in Italy. Only as an adult have I come to realize how spoiled I was to grow up a meat-eating kid in a family of hunter/fisherpeople. Fresh venison sausage from the butcher who processed the deer that was killed, a side of beef raised by the local 4-h boy, half a pig raised by the local 4-h girl, and all varieties of fowl (pheasant, quail, turkey, ducks) and fish (tuna, trout, and salmon were the big ones) regularly graced our table. I ate very well as a child.
But, like many Americans who travel to Italy, it was in Italy that I truly learned to appreciate food. I believe carne di cervo was probably available during my most recent and longest stay in Italy, but I was poor, an unemployed dot-com bubble victim, on a trek to find herself, learn Italian, and, save money by living very cheaply. Carne di cervo didn't make the list (but Prosciutto di San Daniele did...).
In terms of saving money, I came out ahead. In 2002, it was actually cheaper to be an unemployed student/tourist in Italy and paying rent in San Francisco, as well as paying for plane flights to Europe, and European lodging, transport, and food costs, than it was to cover my bay area pared-down monthly expenses upon my return.
Of course, despite the fact that I saved money, I still ate well. That's one of the greatest things about Italy -- you can eat like royalty on $5/day. For the first two weeks of language school, I paid my $30/week to have the cook feed me two meals a day at a huge communal table. I rounded out my sustinence with trips to the bar for cappucini in the morning and $0.50 wine at night. And I was never hungry.
Then, I realized I was getting ripped off. The meals served by the school were simple combinations of easy to prepare ingredients from the local supermarket. They were inspired, mind you. But I wanted to cook like that. I wanted to practice. I was certain I could do it, and for much cheaper. So, I organized a revolt and 8 of my fellow students and I decided to exercise our option not to pay the cook. This was quite a scandal -- apparently, the school had never had to deal with this before and the $30/week was calculated upon economies of scale. With 8 of us out of the loop, we were warned, the other students may not be able to enjoy the cook. The American in me was appalled. How dare they use the others' possible hunger and inability to pay a higher price for the cook to shame us into paying for an "optional" service. But the swiss-Italian blood in me recognized it as a cultural difference that I should respect. So I smiled, apologized, and explained that I wanted to learn how to cook in the great style of Le Marche (the region where I was staying). Somehow, the cook still got paid, the other students ate, and I learned to cook simple and filling Italian dishes for 4-8 people on less than $2-$4/day.
Tonight, for the first time since Le Marche, I made pasta a la carbonara. Sure, I didn't use the leftover pork. I actually had venison/pork sausage. But otherwise, it was the same.
The power of the memories that came flooding back with the smells of the dish cooking and the first taste in my mouth were amazing. This dish will always be an embodiment of Italy to me. Never before my travels had I had it. It's peasant food. Simple. Basic. Filling. Warm. And so ridiculously delicious I can't believe I haven't made it since my return.
E made a primal grunt of happiness while eating his pasta tonight. It's the first time I've heard that noise as his wife. I'd heard it before as his fiancée, but that was at least a couple of months ago -- not all good food can elicit the cave man grunt. I get quite a ridiculous level of satisfaction from hearing that grunt. And then, for me, independent of enjoying E's enjoyment, I can't explain how happy and content I was to eat such simple and delicious food. The memories that flooded back made me smile and reminded me that I can do anything (pack up and leave the country when the job market gets tough -- just go!) and that I can live and eat well on next to nothing. It was very comforting.
So, if you're looking for some amazingly simple and hearty pasta, might I recommend the peasant favorite:
Pasta a la carbonara
1. Boil 1/2 packet spaghetti or 1/2 box Barilla semolina pasta of choice in hot water with a touch of oil and salt 'til al dente. Remove from heat and drain water. Do not rinse in cold water.
2. While pasta is boiling, chop 2 cloves garlic and place in sautee pan. Add meat and sautee lightly. (Traditionally -- use 1/2 lb chopped pork in butter and/or olive oil. Alternatively, use sausage, or just cook some fatty bacon cuttings in their own lard.) Cook through.
3. Add 2/3 cup of grated aged parmigiano, 1 can chopped chilis (4 oz), some olives (chopped in a can, pitted kalamata, whatever's available), and the cooked pasta to the meat. Toss.
4. Beat 3-4 eggs with 1/2 cup of half-and-half and a generous helping of ground black pepper (If no half-and-half, use cream or milk, whatever you've got. No liquid milk products? No problem, use more cheese in step 3. Not enough eggs? No problem. Use more milk products.)
5. When the the cheese is reasonably melted and the pasta is evenly heated, add the milk/egg mixture to the sautee pan and stir for 1 minute. Keep stirring and remove from heat when the eggs are cooked through (the sauce has taken a solid-like texture)
6. Add 1/2 cup of chopped parsely, stir in, cover for 5 minutes, and serve.
I dare you to not enjoy this dish.
April 3, 2006
Let's be clear
It is only because of the fact that I carpool with H that I'm not sleeping for the hour that was stolen by Daylight Savings Time.
Con Law just isn't that important.
It is only because of the fact that I carpool with H that I'm not sleeping for the hour that was stolen by Daylight Savings Time.
Con Law just isn't that important.
April 1, 2006
Dolla Bill Y'all
I've been overly stressed about getting all of E's and my finances in line. I knew that if I didn't do it before I hunkered down for finals it wouldn't be done 'til at least August (and who wants to cuddle up with spreadsheets after a big exam?).
Yesterday, I finally finished the majority of it: Asset-Liability sheets of our separate property, budgeting of joint expenses, balancing bank accounts that haven't been touched in almost a year (tax time always brings this out in me), making certain that every bit of the wedding was paid for as we agreed up front, and finally it hit me.
No wonder I'm stressed. Assuming I start work in October, I will not have earned any money for 14 months. School loans will get me through the end of school (seeing as how that's what they are supposed to do, I suppose I can't complain). But with the wedding I didn't really have the ability to plan for financial outlays after graduation. What to do?
Turns out, I'm in the middle of the longest period I've gone without actively bringing in money to support myself since I was 15 years old. Bonus -- some part of my personality is VERY uncomfortable with relying on others for my financial support. I suppose I could avoid this feeling of relying on others by taking more loans, but it turns out, I'm married now. And if I wanna incur the debt, I need to clear it with E. It's a no-brainer that it's better to live off the spouse than take private loans if that option is available. But, in admitting that, boy do I feel like the incredible black hole of money sucktitude.
Law School. You'll build more character than you ever wanted.
I've been overly stressed about getting all of E's and my finances in line. I knew that if I didn't do it before I hunkered down for finals it wouldn't be done 'til at least August (and who wants to cuddle up with spreadsheets after a big exam?).
Yesterday, I finally finished the majority of it: Asset-Liability sheets of our separate property, budgeting of joint expenses, balancing bank accounts that haven't been touched in almost a year (tax time always brings this out in me), making certain that every bit of the wedding was paid for as we agreed up front, and finally it hit me.
No wonder I'm stressed. Assuming I start work in October, I will not have earned any money for 14 months. School loans will get me through the end of school (seeing as how that's what they are supposed to do, I suppose I can't complain). But with the wedding I didn't really have the ability to plan for financial outlays after graduation. What to do?
Turns out, I'm in the middle of the longest period I've gone without actively bringing in money to support myself since I was 15 years old. Bonus -- some part of my personality is VERY uncomfortable with relying on others for my financial support. I suppose I could avoid this feeling of relying on others by taking more loans, but it turns out, I'm married now. And if I wanna incur the debt, I need to clear it with E. It's a no-brainer that it's better to live off the spouse than take private loans if that option is available. But, in admitting that, boy do I feel like the incredible black hole of money sucktitude.
Law School. You'll build more character than you ever wanted.
March 31, 2006
He Said, She Said
Last night, E and I decided to go out. I am officially only behind in 2 classes, which seemed like something to celebrate. Either that, or the fact that it was Thursday, or, maybe that I just didn't want to cook.
I threw out all of our usual suspect restaurants, but kind of wanted to branch out and try something we don't go to very often. I suggested an old Sunnyvale favorite but E didn't want to drive that far. So, I suggested a new local vietnamese fusion joint that we'd gone to with friends a few weeks prior. I thought that we had loved it.
Turns out, it was just me. I loved it. I even took my bridesmaids there on our day-before-the-wedding thank you lunch. They loved it too (or so I thought). The restaurant seems to be quite a success -- they hit the right price point, the quality of the food is excellent, and the theme is unlike anything else in the area, which makes it your only option for healthy, well-done, vietnamese fusion.
But E didn't want to go there. In fact, he made a face. I was confused.
BT: Didn't you love the food?
E: It was all right.
BT: But, weren't those huge fighting prawns cool?
E: Yeah, they were okay.
BT: And your shaking beef, made from filet mignon, how could you not love it? It was delicious.
E: Dude. You guys were the ones who loved that place. It was too hip.
BT: What?
E: You know. The lighting. The ambiance. The crowd. I didn't like it.
BT: Oh.
So, we ended up at a local Pizza joint we'd never tried.
BT: Is this better?
E: Yeah. They almost got it right. Cheap beer, there's a bar, it's kind of loud, smells like pizza.
BT: [laugh] There needs to be a bar for you to enjoy a pizza joint? They can't just serve drinks?
E: Yeah, that's why I didn't want to go to Pizza Chicago.
BT: [laugh] I had no idea. [Thinking to self: We're not even sitting at the bar, why does it matter if they have one?]
E: This place is pretty good though. They've almost got it right. The fixtures are too shiny, but the menu, ambiance, and crowd is right on.
BT: Actually, I do like this place, it's pretty cool.
E: Yeah, I'm kind of disappointed in us that we've never been here. It's not quite up to the standard of The Front Room, but it's close.
We had a delicious dinner of calzones (calzone caliente is *highly* recommended). And, as we enjoyed our dinner, we ran into not 1, not 2, but 4 of my former work colleagues at the pizza joint. I guess E's taste is shared by many people. Silly me, always focused on just the food and drink (ambiance, outside of good service and cleanliness, does very little either positive or negative for my dining experience). Who knew that people selected restaurants on the basis of things like lighting, fixtures, and the existence of a bar? Learn something new every day.
Last night, E and I decided to go out. I am officially only behind in 2 classes, which seemed like something to celebrate. Either that, or the fact that it was Thursday, or, maybe that I just didn't want to cook.
I threw out all of our usual suspect restaurants, but kind of wanted to branch out and try something we don't go to very often. I suggested an old Sunnyvale favorite but E didn't want to drive that far. So, I suggested a new local vietnamese fusion joint that we'd gone to with friends a few weeks prior. I thought that we had loved it.
Turns out, it was just me. I loved it. I even took my bridesmaids there on our day-before-the-wedding thank you lunch. They loved it too (or so I thought). The restaurant seems to be quite a success -- they hit the right price point, the quality of the food is excellent, and the theme is unlike anything else in the area, which makes it your only option for healthy, well-done, vietnamese fusion.
But E didn't want to go there. In fact, he made a face. I was confused.
BT: Didn't you love the food?
E: It was all right.
BT: But, weren't those huge fighting prawns cool?
E: Yeah, they were okay.
BT: And your shaking beef, made from filet mignon, how could you not love it? It was delicious.
E: Dude. You guys were the ones who loved that place. It was too hip.
BT: What?
E: You know. The lighting. The ambiance. The crowd. I didn't like it.
BT: Oh.
So, we ended up at a local Pizza joint we'd never tried.
BT: Is this better?
E: Yeah. They almost got it right. Cheap beer, there's a bar, it's kind of loud, smells like pizza.
BT: [laugh] There needs to be a bar for you to enjoy a pizza joint? They can't just serve drinks?
E: Yeah, that's why I didn't want to go to Pizza Chicago.
BT: [laugh] I had no idea. [Thinking to self: We're not even sitting at the bar, why does it matter if they have one?]
E: This place is pretty good though. They've almost got it right. The fixtures are too shiny, but the menu, ambiance, and crowd is right on.
BT: Actually, I do like this place, it's pretty cool.
E: Yeah, I'm kind of disappointed in us that we've never been here. It's not quite up to the standard of The Front Room, but it's close.
We had a delicious dinner of calzones (calzone caliente is *highly* recommended). And, as we enjoyed our dinner, we ran into not 1, not 2, but 4 of my former work colleagues at the pizza joint. I guess E's taste is shared by many people. Silly me, always focused on just the food and drink (ambiance, outside of good service and cleanliness, does very little either positive or negative for my dining experience). Who knew that people selected restaurants on the basis of things like lighting, fixtures, and the existence of a bar? Learn something new every day.
March 29, 2006
Daytime Dreams
I have a list of all of the fun things I get to make with our new wedding-related booty. I'm very excited to cross 'em off one-by-one over the next year, but for now must content myself with referring to list and smiling in anticipation because very few of 'em are going to make the time cut before August. The wok has already been seasoned and well-used, but that's because Asian food is efficient for a high-stress life. (In recognition of that fact, we took a trip to Ranch 99 last weekend and loaded up on all sorts of quick and easy food for finals and the bar.)
But, I digress. Here's what I'm looking forward to enjoying as a result of the wedding gifts:
1. Espresso Drinks made with the espresso maker (need to get a grinder with a superfine setting or buy some espresso grounds)
2. Panini grilled on the panini grill (We broke it in on some pugliese rubbed with olive oil and garlic to go with the Tuscan Bean Soup the other night. But I'm really looking forward to the day when I can lay some fresh-cut prosciutto, fontina, and fresh summer tomatoes between two slices of bread...).
3. Evenly rolled and cut linguine made with the pasta roller attachment for the kitchenaid. (Yes, I have made homemade pasta by hand ever since living in Italy and do consider kitchen gadgets to be somewhat unnecessary. But, I've never even attempted to hand cut linguine. I'm not crazy. Okay, I am. But not that crazy.)
4. Creme Brulée. (Two words: Blow torch. Apparently, it takes a few times before you get it right. How fun is that going to be?)
5. Baking with the pyrex, silicone, and various other bakeware we received. (I already made some perfectly moist and structurally sound homemade cornbread in the silicone bread pans. [yeah, I was skeptical about the oil instead of butter too... try it, you'll be thrilled] But I'm looking forward to cakes, souflées, casseroles, breads, tartes, pies, cookies, and well, you get the idea.)
6. Ice cream in the ice cream attachment for the kitchenaid. (E's mother makes the best lemon ice cream ever. I may have to start with that and then branch out if she's willing to part with the recipe.)
7. Pizza from scratch, on the pizza stone. (Mmmmmm...home made pizza.)
8. Salad in our new serving bowls (okay, in fairness, this one should be able to get itself off the list just as soon as I can figure out where they will be stored.)
9. Chips and salsa or cruditée with dip in the gorgeous party platter (this will probably cross itself off the list when barbeque season rolls around.)
10. Custard or chocolate molten cakelettes or something else wonderful in our new larger ramekins.
11. Something (or many somethings) from each of our recently acquired cookbooks (including a local women's club collection which appears to have some fabulous offerings).
12. Margaritas in our new margarita pitcher and glasses. (Need a good recipe. We love the ritas, but thus far, we only drink 'em at Mexican restaurants or in Mexico.)
13. Martinis in our new martini glasses. (I admit, we don't drink much in the way of hard alcohol around here, so if you have any suggestions for variations on the theme that may appeal to us like chocolate martinis, or something the boys may like, I'd love your suggestions.)
14. A dinner party where we break out all of our new china and stemware with friends. (It's likely we'll need to acquire some additional table-like apparati in order to fit all the placesettings at once, check back sometime in the fall.)
How's that for a short list of great things to which I look forward? Trust me, I've got a million other lists of things I'd like to do (friends to visit, books to read, places to travel, restaurants to try, wine to try, languages to speak, experiences to have), but this one is easy and focused. I have all of the necessary equipment, I just have to find the time. And I will. Soon. Ahhh... here's to looking forward while I go back to my con law reading (update, I'm only behind in 3 classes now! Woo hoo!)
I have a list of all of the fun things I get to make with our new wedding-related booty. I'm very excited to cross 'em off one-by-one over the next year, but for now must content myself with referring to list and smiling in anticipation because very few of 'em are going to make the time cut before August. The wok has already been seasoned and well-used, but that's because Asian food is efficient for a high-stress life. (In recognition of that fact, we took a trip to Ranch 99 last weekend and loaded up on all sorts of quick and easy food for finals and the bar.)
But, I digress. Here's what I'm looking forward to enjoying as a result of the wedding gifts:
1. Espresso Drinks made with the espresso maker (need to get a grinder with a superfine setting or buy some espresso grounds)
2. Panini grilled on the panini grill (We broke it in on some pugliese rubbed with olive oil and garlic to go with the Tuscan Bean Soup the other night. But I'm really looking forward to the day when I can lay some fresh-cut prosciutto, fontina, and fresh summer tomatoes between two slices of bread...).
3. Evenly rolled and cut linguine made with the pasta roller attachment for the kitchenaid. (Yes, I have made homemade pasta by hand ever since living in Italy and do consider kitchen gadgets to be somewhat unnecessary. But, I've never even attempted to hand cut linguine. I'm not crazy. Okay, I am. But not that crazy.)
4. Creme Brulée. (Two words: Blow torch. Apparently, it takes a few times before you get it right. How fun is that going to be?)
5. Baking with the pyrex, silicone, and various other bakeware we received. (I already made some perfectly moist and structurally sound homemade cornbread in the silicone bread pans. [yeah, I was skeptical about the oil instead of butter too... try it, you'll be thrilled] But I'm looking forward to cakes, souflées, casseroles, breads, tartes, pies, cookies, and well, you get the idea.)
6. Ice cream in the ice cream attachment for the kitchenaid. (E's mother makes the best lemon ice cream ever. I may have to start with that and then branch out if she's willing to part with the recipe.)
7. Pizza from scratch, on the pizza stone. (Mmmmmm...home made pizza.)
8. Salad in our new serving bowls (okay, in fairness, this one should be able to get itself off the list just as soon as I can figure out where they will be stored.)
9. Chips and salsa or cruditée with dip in the gorgeous party platter (this will probably cross itself off the list when barbeque season rolls around.)
10. Custard or chocolate molten cakelettes or something else wonderful in our new larger ramekins.
11. Something (or many somethings) from each of our recently acquired cookbooks (including a local women's club collection which appears to have some fabulous offerings).
12. Margaritas in our new margarita pitcher and glasses. (Need a good recipe. We love the ritas, but thus far, we only drink 'em at Mexican restaurants or in Mexico.)
13. Martinis in our new martini glasses. (I admit, we don't drink much in the way of hard alcohol around here, so if you have any suggestions for variations on the theme that may appeal to us like chocolate martinis, or something the boys may like, I'd love your suggestions.)
14. A dinner party where we break out all of our new china and stemware with friends. (It's likely we'll need to acquire some additional table-like apparati in order to fit all the placesettings at once, check back sometime in the fall.)
How's that for a short list of great things to which I look forward? Trust me, I've got a million other lists of things I'd like to do (friends to visit, books to read, places to travel, restaurants to try, wine to try, languages to speak, experiences to have), but this one is easy and focused. I have all of the necessary equipment, I just have to find the time. And I will. Soon. Ahhh... here's to looking forward while I go back to my con law reading (update, I'm only behind in 3 classes now! Woo hoo!)
It Begins
After the wedding, I had about 2 weeks of low frequency nightmares. For me, this is amazing. I have them all the time. Last night, it was particularly bad.
Once, E and I barely swam away from a plane that crashed into a lake. We swam away bobbing under water intermittently. Former coworkers of mine passed us doing heads-up freestyle. We bobbed to the left out of their path after they passed us. The plane exploded. Everyone except E and I went up in flames (because of the path of oil/gas they trailed behind them while swimming through the top of the water). I woke in a cold sweat.
I fell back asleep only so E could jump out of a helicopter while it was a few feet from the ground and careening to its demise. He started to run away leaving me in the thing. Realized I hadn't followed, he turned around and waited 'til the helicopter was closer to the ground and started yelling at me to jump out the back. I yelled at him to get out of the way and not get crushed. He put his hand in the helicopter, I ran beneath the blades, grabbed his hand and jumped. We ran away just before it exploded. I woke certain that I could be the reason E did something stupid that hurt him.
Finally, I fell back asleep to find myself in the hospital and my dad wasn't getting better. He insisted on getting up and walking by himself but he was very unsteady. I yelled at him to get his walker, and he turned around, confused. I was too far away. I yelled at the nurse that he was going to fall. She got there just in time, but couldn't catch all of his weight so he fell anyways and hit his head. I ran to his side and we both cried at his declining health.
My stomach hurts this morning.
After the wedding, I had about 2 weeks of low frequency nightmares. For me, this is amazing. I have them all the time. Last night, it was particularly bad.
Once, E and I barely swam away from a plane that crashed into a lake. We swam away bobbing under water intermittently. Former coworkers of mine passed us doing heads-up freestyle. We bobbed to the left out of their path after they passed us. The plane exploded. Everyone except E and I went up in flames (because of the path of oil/gas they trailed behind them while swimming through the top of the water). I woke in a cold sweat.
I fell back asleep only so E could jump out of a helicopter while it was a few feet from the ground and careening to its demise. He started to run away leaving me in the thing. Realized I hadn't followed, he turned around and waited 'til the helicopter was closer to the ground and started yelling at me to jump out the back. I yelled at him to get out of the way and not get crushed. He put his hand in the helicopter, I ran beneath the blades, grabbed his hand and jumped. We ran away just before it exploded. I woke certain that I could be the reason E did something stupid that hurt him.
Finally, I fell back asleep to find myself in the hospital and my dad wasn't getting better. He insisted on getting up and walking by himself but he was very unsteady. I yelled at him to get his walker, and he turned around, confused. I was too far away. I yelled at the nurse that he was going to fall. She got there just in time, but couldn't catch all of his weight so he fell anyways and hit his head. I ran to his side and we both cried at his declining health.
My stomach hurts this morning.
March 28, 2006
Scheduling
Yesterday, I did some master planning for all days between today and memorial day.
Primarily, I allocated time to the following 3 groups of activities:
1. Law school -- mainly study day allocation as necessary given my current state of unpreparedness, how many units the course is, and how much I think I need to study between now and the exam.
2. Working out -- if there's one thing law school has taught me, it's that in a time of stress, many things can go out the window, but I MUST maintain some minor commitment to working out or I'll head into a downward spiral of headaches, dizziness, heartburn, and sleeping problems. So, I've got tentative plans to do a few easy races between now and memorial day. If life won't let me run 'em, no worries, at least I'll have done the training to stay sane.
3. Social/Family/E -- yup. I'm that big of a geek. When facing a big grind-time, I actually schedule when I'm going to see my extended family, when I'm allocating time to hang out with E, and when, if at all, I'm going to allow myself to do something social with people outside of my family.
The scheduling brought an odd intersection of bay area running, my family life, and law school to my attention that may have otherwise slipped my notice: My school, in its infinite wisdom, scheduled graduation for the same day as a little footrace known as Bay to Breakers. Awesome. An extra 65,000 participants and 110,000 spectators all less than 2 miles from graduation... sounds fun.
The race suggests finding an alternate route (you know, avoid the freeways that the out of towners will be using to get to the race...that's right, all of 'em) and, also to avoid/postpone travel in the affected areas.
This presents a particularly interesting problem. I have relatives from out of town who are uncomfortable with "the city." If they must come, they deal with much of their discomfort by getting up at the asscrack of dawn. This means they arrive very early (to avoid traffic and have enough time to deal with unforseen complications). Clearly this plan is going to backfire this time. So now, I've got to figure out if it's better to get 'em all to San Francisco and into a hotel the night before graduation (a night in the city???) or to try to make the point that they should drive later in the day and just sit in traffic because it'll actually be better than the early AM traffic on the day of the race.
Yesterday, I did some master planning for all days between today and memorial day.
Primarily, I allocated time to the following 3 groups of activities:
1. Law school -- mainly study day allocation as necessary given my current state of unpreparedness, how many units the course is, and how much I think I need to study between now and the exam.
2. Working out -- if there's one thing law school has taught me, it's that in a time of stress, many things can go out the window, but I MUST maintain some minor commitment to working out or I'll head into a downward spiral of headaches, dizziness, heartburn, and sleeping problems. So, I've got tentative plans to do a few easy races between now and memorial day. If life won't let me run 'em, no worries, at least I'll have done the training to stay sane.
3. Social/Family/E -- yup. I'm that big of a geek. When facing a big grind-time, I actually schedule when I'm going to see my extended family, when I'm allocating time to hang out with E, and when, if at all, I'm going to allow myself to do something social with people outside of my family.
The scheduling brought an odd intersection of bay area running, my family life, and law school to my attention that may have otherwise slipped my notice: My school, in its infinite wisdom, scheduled graduation for the same day as a little footrace known as Bay to Breakers. Awesome. An extra 65,000 participants and 110,000 spectators all less than 2 miles from graduation... sounds fun.
The race suggests finding an alternate route (you know, avoid the freeways that the out of towners will be using to get to the race...that's right, all of 'em) and, also to avoid/postpone travel in the affected areas.
This presents a particularly interesting problem. I have relatives from out of town who are uncomfortable with "the city." If they must come, they deal with much of their discomfort by getting up at the asscrack of dawn. This means they arrive very early (to avoid traffic and have enough time to deal with unforseen complications). Clearly this plan is going to backfire this time. So now, I've got to figure out if it's better to get 'em all to San Francisco and into a hotel the night before graduation (a night in the city???) or to try to make the point that they should drive later in the day and just sit in traffic because it'll actually be better than the early AM traffic on the day of the race.
March 27, 2006
A nod to the law-life
Believe it or not, my life isn't all stir-fry and domestic happiness. The stuff necessary to one day practice law does, in fact, take up a substantial amount of my life. As proof, I present the following:
First, If you are a law student (or any graduate student) who hasn't yet consolidated your student loans:
Just Do It. Now.
You have 'til July 1, 2006 whether you are a 3rd year student or a continuing student. If you consolidate, you get to lock in at least a 4.7% over the life of the loan. If you don't, next year, and every year after it, you get 6.8%. If you don't have time to consider your options, my 2-cents would be to consolidate with your existing lender (half of you will have to anyways because of the single lender rule), because it'll most likely save you money in the long run. (Of course, the smart thing to do would be to *calculate* which option makes the most sense for you...)
Second, after a weekend of medium effort on the school front, with 5 weeks of school left, I'm pleasantly surprised at how far behind in school I am. Given that I got married, took my honeymoon over spring break, and had to miss a few weeks of school for a family member who was ill, I figure this isn't too bad.
So, in theory, I could catch up if I read for 270 minutes this evening (I average about 2 minutes per page). But, in reality, I'll probably only read the 15 pages for IP (only to have a new assignment due as soon as I exit that class tomorrow).
I'm very aware that the time where I can take care of life things (finances, cleaning, cooking for enjoyment, etc.) is quickly drawing to a close. Whether it's realistic or not, I feel like once it's time to buckle down for finals, that's it 'til August. There's finals, then bar review, then the bar.
Perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised. But, because I fear I won't be, I'll keep plugging through the life things that can't be put on hold 'til August and that pile of reading will most likely remain the same size for at least another week.
Finally, and if you have lots of Lexis points and you to are looking to procrastinate with other stuff before you buckle down for finals -- the Amazon Superstore ROCKS! In contrast, Westlaw's reward program is lame. I don't want anything in my point range on Westlaw. But for lexis, I just browsed amazon 'til I found stuff I wanted. Now, I can't wait to get my Mexican cookbooks, my Martin Yan -- Quick & Easy (remember Yan Can Cook?), another Yoga DVD, and All the Pretty Horses (I never read it, and figure having one unread pleasure book lying around for after the bar is a good idea).
Believe it or not, my life isn't all stir-fry and domestic happiness. The stuff necessary to one day practice law does, in fact, take up a substantial amount of my life. As proof, I present the following:
First, If you are a law student (or any graduate student) who hasn't yet consolidated your student loans:
Just Do It. Now.
You have 'til July 1, 2006 whether you are a 3rd year student or a continuing student. If you consolidate, you get to lock in at least a 4.7% over the life of the loan. If you don't, next year, and every year after it, you get 6.8%. If you don't have time to consider your options, my 2-cents would be to consolidate with your existing lender (half of you will have to anyways because of the single lender rule), because it'll most likely save you money in the long run. (Of course, the smart thing to do would be to *calculate* which option makes the most sense for you...)
Second, after a weekend of medium effort on the school front, with 5 weeks of school left, I'm pleasantly surprised at how far behind in school I am. Given that I got married, took my honeymoon over spring break, and had to miss a few weeks of school for a family member who was ill, I figure this isn't too bad.
- Community Property: 60 pages behind.
- Constitutional Law: 60 pages behind.
- Corporations: N/A -- didn't buy the book, going off an outline (I'll let you know how that turns out).
- Venture Capital Law: Unable to calculate. Have read one of the suggested additional reading books, but it wasn't formally assigned. I've done bits of the assigned reading from the handouts, but I expect to frantically cram the billions of handouts that he gave us into my head the day before the final (unless I can magically come up with some other time to do it).
- Intellectual Property: 15 pages behind.
So, in theory, I could catch up if I read for 270 minutes this evening (I average about 2 minutes per page). But, in reality, I'll probably only read the 15 pages for IP (only to have a new assignment due as soon as I exit that class tomorrow).
I'm very aware that the time where I can take care of life things (finances, cleaning, cooking for enjoyment, etc.) is quickly drawing to a close. Whether it's realistic or not, I feel like once it's time to buckle down for finals, that's it 'til August. There's finals, then bar review, then the bar.
Perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised. But, because I fear I won't be, I'll keep plugging through the life things that can't be put on hold 'til August and that pile of reading will most likely remain the same size for at least another week.
Finally, and if you have lots of Lexis points and you to are looking to procrastinate with other stuff before you buckle down for finals -- the Amazon Superstore ROCKS! In contrast, Westlaw's reward program is lame. I don't want anything in my point range on Westlaw. But for lexis, I just browsed amazon 'til I found stuff I wanted. Now, I can't wait to get my Mexican cookbooks, my Martin Yan -- Quick & Easy (remember Yan Can Cook?), another Yoga DVD, and All the Pretty Horses (I never read it, and figure having one unread pleasure book lying around for after the bar is a good idea).
March 26, 2006
Everyone has bad days
Yesterday, E and I went to our favorite local hole-in-the-wall burrito joint. In fariness, it's not really that much of a hole-in-the-wall, it's more like the fanciest authentic California-ized taqueria you've ever seen (they serve more burritos from the assembly line than tacos and they are okay with it).
Unfortunately, E found a hair in his burrito right around the same time that I spotted and killed a cockroach scampering across the newly tiled floor.
Then, I quietly went to report these atrocities to the manager. I didn't want to make a scene. Between the E and I over the last 3 years, I think we've averaged at least one item per week from this joint. We love it and I have no desire to upset their business or other customers. I was just a little disappointed and disgusted.
The manager was very concerned about the hair. She collected it in a napkin, and I suspect there will be hair comparisons later -- someone is getting in trouble. Pero la cucaracha? Nada importante. Like, I said, this joint is authentic.
Of course, to make it up to us, she apologized and offered us two free burritos on our next visit. We thanked her and pocketed the hand-written card. We'll be back. Just as soon at the food coma (burritos yesterday and dim sum this morning) dissipates. Burritos make up at least 35% of my finals sustinence. I suspect the bar will be the same. I'm not about to let something so silly as a forgotten hair net and an expired roach trap change my game plan.
Bad days. We all have 'em. (Here's to hoping they don't miss again...I'd hate to lose my apetite.)
Yesterday, E and I went to our favorite local hole-in-the-wall burrito joint. In fariness, it's not really that much of a hole-in-the-wall, it's more like the fanciest authentic California-ized taqueria you've ever seen (they serve more burritos from the assembly line than tacos and they are okay with it).
Unfortunately, E found a hair in his burrito right around the same time that I spotted and killed a cockroach scampering across the newly tiled floor.
Then, I quietly went to report these atrocities to the manager. I didn't want to make a scene. Between the E and I over the last 3 years, I think we've averaged at least one item per week from this joint. We love it and I have no desire to upset their business or other customers. I was just a little disappointed and disgusted.
The manager was very concerned about the hair. She collected it in a napkin, and I suspect there will be hair comparisons later -- someone is getting in trouble. Pero la cucaracha? Nada importante. Like, I said, this joint is authentic.
Of course, to make it up to us, she apologized and offered us two free burritos on our next visit. We thanked her and pocketed the hand-written card. We'll be back. Just as soon at the food coma (burritos yesterday and dim sum this morning) dissipates. Burritos make up at least 35% of my finals sustinence. I suspect the bar will be the same. I'm not about to let something so silly as a forgotten hair net and an expired roach trap change my game plan.
Bad days. We all have 'em. (Here's to hoping they don't miss again...I'd hate to lose my apetite.)
March 24, 2006
Wok this way!
Okay, first, this is creepy:
It's pretty dead on for me. Link thanks to beanie.
Second, we got a wok for one of our wedding presents. Tonight's offering was fabulous. So, I've decided the best way to cook pheasant is in the form of some chili-oil based stir-fry. Pheasant is healthy. Pheasant is difficult to shoot. Pheasant is a nice gift from the family hunters. But generally, even when wrapped in bacon, pheasant is hard-pressed to be fabulous.
So, if you have a spare vacuum-sealed pheasant in the freezer, here's my suggestion.
Black-bean chili pheasant stir-fry
1. Thaw and carve/cut one pheasant into small stir-fry sized chunks of pheasant meat. Wash and place the chunks in a bowl, ready for stir-frying.
2. Open a can of black-bean chili sauce (or what should be known as black-bean chili oil). Pour 3 Tablespoons into the wok.
3. Heat the wok to high. Add 1 yellow onion, diced, and 3 cloves of garlic diced. Sautee in the wok vigorously for 1-2 minutes.
3. Add pheasant. Continue to stir in the wok.
4. Open and drain: 1 can baby corn (E likes it cut into bite-sized pieces, I think they are bite-sized already), 1 can water chestnuts, 1 can button mushrooms. Add all drained vegetables to wok, turn down the heat to medium-high and continue stirring for 1-3 minutes. Cover if bored.
5. Chop 1/3 bunch of washedparsely cilantro. Mix with 2 cups bean sprouts.
6. When the meat is cooked through and the vegetables are well soaked in chili-oil, turn to low heat, continue to stir, addparsely cilantro & bean sprouts. Stir and cool.
7. After 1-2 minutes, turn off heat. Continue to stir until ready to be served. Serve hot, from the wok, either over rice or on its own.
Enjoy!
Okay, first, this is creepy:
It's pretty dead on for me. Link thanks to beanie.
Second, we got a wok for one of our wedding presents. Tonight's offering was fabulous. So, I've decided the best way to cook pheasant is in the form of some chili-oil based stir-fry. Pheasant is healthy. Pheasant is difficult to shoot. Pheasant is a nice gift from the family hunters. But generally, even when wrapped in bacon, pheasant is hard-pressed to be fabulous.
So, if you have a spare vacuum-sealed pheasant in the freezer, here's my suggestion.
Black-bean chili pheasant stir-fry
1. Thaw and carve/cut one pheasant into small stir-fry sized chunks of pheasant meat. Wash and place the chunks in a bowl, ready for stir-frying.
2. Open a can of black-bean chili sauce (or what should be known as black-bean chili oil). Pour 3 Tablespoons into the wok.
3. Heat the wok to high. Add 1 yellow onion, diced, and 3 cloves of garlic diced. Sautee in the wok vigorously for 1-2 minutes.
3. Add pheasant. Continue to stir in the wok.
4. Open and drain: 1 can baby corn (E likes it cut into bite-sized pieces, I think they are bite-sized already), 1 can water chestnuts, 1 can button mushrooms. Add all drained vegetables to wok, turn down the heat to medium-high and continue stirring for 1-3 minutes. Cover if bored.
5. Chop 1/3 bunch of washed
6. When the meat is cooked through and the vegetables are well soaked in chili-oil, turn to low heat, continue to stir, add
7. After 1-2 minutes, turn off heat. Continue to stir until ready to be served. Serve hot, from the wok, either over rice or on its own.
Enjoy!
March 22, 2006
Wifey Lifey
So far this week, I've been a good new wife. I'm slowly cleaning the house to return it to some semblance of cleanliness that preceded the wedding hurricane. I made lentil soup from scratch for Monday (leftovers tuesday). I even stayed awake for all of Lost in Translation last night (I'm one of those who fall asleep instead of watching the movie with you). Tonight I thawed some homemade bolognese to serve with artichoke linguine (from the Great Artichoke trip) in an effort to bribe our photographer when she showed up with the contact sheets. Unfortunately (or fortunately, really), she was onto me and brought her own bribe of citizen cake pugliese and dessert. E, who never misses a trick, pointed out that we should have the photographer over more often since he prefers bolognese, bread, and cake to vegetarian lentil soup.
Unfortunately, the only thing I'm not liking about my first wife week at home is that I have a sore throat. My tongue is slightly swollen. It hurts to swallow. And, I'm exhausted.
Figures. Everytime I really buckle down to push through a stressful period of time, as soon as I relax, my body does it's best to let me know how much it disliked what I put it through.
Got it. Message received.
So, since I can't go home to visit my dad during his chemo with this nice little infection (which is probably the cousin of the nasty sinus infection that E has, I hope I don't have to go to the doctor to get antibiotics), I get to stay home and just do normal life stuff for the first weekend in at least 4 months.
I'm ecstatic.
I've got big plans to study, catch up on my reading, clean, sleep, write Thank Yous and possibly cook another meal or two. It may not sound fun to you, but it sounds like heaven to me. Even with a mutinous body.
How's that for a boring post? Oh, and the contact sheets were fun. I don't know how we're going to pick our favorite photos. But it's a good problem to have.
So far this week, I've been a good new wife. I'm slowly cleaning the house to return it to some semblance of cleanliness that preceded the wedding hurricane. I made lentil soup from scratch for Monday (leftovers tuesday). I even stayed awake for all of Lost in Translation last night (I'm one of those who fall asleep instead of watching the movie with you). Tonight I thawed some homemade bolognese to serve with artichoke linguine (from the Great Artichoke trip) in an effort to bribe our photographer when she showed up with the contact sheets. Unfortunately (or fortunately, really), she was onto me and brought her own bribe of citizen cake pugliese and dessert. E, who never misses a trick, pointed out that we should have the photographer over more often since he prefers bolognese, bread, and cake to vegetarian lentil soup.
Unfortunately, the only thing I'm not liking about my first wife week at home is that I have a sore throat. My tongue is slightly swollen. It hurts to swallow. And, I'm exhausted.
Figures. Everytime I really buckle down to push through a stressful period of time, as soon as I relax, my body does it's best to let me know how much it disliked what I put it through.
Got it. Message received.
So, since I can't go home to visit my dad during his chemo with this nice little infection (which is probably the cousin of the nasty sinus infection that E has, I hope I don't have to go to the doctor to get antibiotics), I get to stay home and just do normal life stuff for the first weekend in at least 4 months.
I'm ecstatic.
I've got big plans to study, catch up on my reading, clean, sleep, write Thank Yous and possibly cook another meal or two. It may not sound fun to you, but it sounds like heaven to me. Even with a mutinous body.
How's that for a boring post? Oh, and the contact sheets were fun. I don't know how we're going to pick our favorite photos. But it's a good problem to have.
March 19, 2006
Hola Senora E!
Well, it's a done deal. E and I are hitched. Additionally, everything was a fairy tale, from my father who was able to walk me down the aisle without a walker or wheelchair, to my niece, who at 4 years old insisted on giving her own toast (and the DJ let her), to our families & friends who all appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely at every turn, to the food, the service, the building, and even the weather. Despite weather.com's predictions, even the weather cleared up to provide a beautiful blue sky day for our wedding. I can easily say that struggles were absolutely worth it. Trite, but true, my wedding day was the happiest and most fun day of my life. When the entire wedding weekend and honeymoon are combined, I can't even believe how wonderful the last week of my life has been (and how quickly it is now over).
At some point after the ceremony (during family photographs) my matron of honor, D, signed the marriage license as the one required witness, and that was that. E and I were officially husband and wife as of the pronouncement during the ceremony. I actually thought E and I had to sign the marriage license as well so I didn't realize that I was truly married 'til 11 PM when I asked when E & I were going to sign and formalize the whole thing. Apparently, after getting the marriage license, the only required formalities are a witness to the oral oaths and the verification from the officiant that the oaths had been administered correctly.
R immediately signed her name in the place of the "officiant" after the ceremony. One of my closest friends since middle school, E & I asked her to become ordained through the Universal Life Church in order to marry us. She did so, and she did an excellent job performing the ceremony. In fact, other than the food and location, we received more compliments on the officiant and the ceremony than anything else. After how well it worked out, I can't imagine having us joined by any other person. I am so thankful that she was willing to take on that task.
So, after making promises and kissing, R introduced us to the crowd as Mr. & Mrs. E, whereupon we attended and enjoyed the greatest party of my life (how could it not be with all of the close friends and family selected by you?). A day or two later we arrived in Zihuatanejo for some much needed R&R on our luna de miel. We did nothing other than sleep (in the bed, on our private sun terrace, on the sun deck, under the umbrellas at the poolside bar), eat delicious food, walk in the sun, swim, lay in the shade, lay in the sun, drink beers and margaritas, enjoy some of the most impeccable service I've ever received at a hotel, and, of course, enjoy each other without any distractions from friends, family, or outside life. Everywhere we went, I was greated with, "Hola Senora E! Como Esta? Todo Bien?" Each time, I grinned and answered, "Si. Completamente bien."
And each day, I became more and more comfortable that I was Senora E. Just 2 months prior I'd been in Mexico as Senorita BT. It had been at least the 4th or 5th time in my life to be referred to in Spanish as Senorita BT and I had learned to accept it as my name when in a Spanish speaking country. (You see, there's no Ms. in Spanish...)
Imagine my surprise when I arrived this time to find I had an entirely new name. Senora E! That's me. For some reason, it was the missing formality I needed. I never signed the certificate, which I thought I had to do. So, thank goodness for the sexist nature of the Spanish language and Mexico's insistence on referring to me by both "Senora" and E's name. After 5 days of hearing it, I finally believed it was true.
And, now, my friends, Senora E has some serious catching up in the real world to do. School and basic life responsibilities like cleaning were on pause 'til after the wedding. Now, despite what I may wish, the honeymoon *is* over. I have no excuse and very little time left 'til I'm no longer a law student (assuming all goes well...).
Well, it's a done deal. E and I are hitched. Additionally, everything was a fairy tale, from my father who was able to walk me down the aisle without a walker or wheelchair, to my niece, who at 4 years old insisted on giving her own toast (and the DJ let her), to our families & friends who all appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely at every turn, to the food, the service, the building, and even the weather. Despite weather.com's predictions, even the weather cleared up to provide a beautiful blue sky day for our wedding. I can easily say that struggles were absolutely worth it. Trite, but true, my wedding day was the happiest and most fun day of my life. When the entire wedding weekend and honeymoon are combined, I can't even believe how wonderful the last week of my life has been (and how quickly it is now over).
At some point after the ceremony (during family photographs) my matron of honor, D, signed the marriage license as the one required witness, and that was that. E and I were officially husband and wife as of the pronouncement during the ceremony. I actually thought E and I had to sign the marriage license as well so I didn't realize that I was truly married 'til 11 PM when I asked when E & I were going to sign and formalize the whole thing. Apparently, after getting the marriage license, the only required formalities are a witness to the oral oaths and the verification from the officiant that the oaths had been administered correctly.
R immediately signed her name in the place of the "officiant" after the ceremony. One of my closest friends since middle school, E & I asked her to become ordained through the Universal Life Church in order to marry us. She did so, and she did an excellent job performing the ceremony. In fact, other than the food and location, we received more compliments on the officiant and the ceremony than anything else. After how well it worked out, I can't imagine having us joined by any other person. I am so thankful that she was willing to take on that task.
So, after making promises and kissing, R introduced us to the crowd as Mr. & Mrs. E, whereupon we attended and enjoyed the greatest party of my life (how could it not be with all of the close friends and family selected by you?). A day or two later we arrived in Zihuatanejo for some much needed R&R on our luna de miel. We did nothing other than sleep (in the bed, on our private sun terrace, on the sun deck, under the umbrellas at the poolside bar), eat delicious food, walk in the sun, swim, lay in the shade, lay in the sun, drink beers and margaritas, enjoy some of the most impeccable service I've ever received at a hotel, and, of course, enjoy each other without any distractions from friends, family, or outside life. Everywhere we went, I was greated with, "Hola Senora E! Como Esta? Todo Bien?" Each time, I grinned and answered, "Si. Completamente bien."
And each day, I became more and more comfortable that I was Senora E. Just 2 months prior I'd been in Mexico as Senorita BT. It had been at least the 4th or 5th time in my life to be referred to in Spanish as Senorita BT and I had learned to accept it as my name when in a Spanish speaking country. (You see, there's no Ms. in Spanish...)
Imagine my surprise when I arrived this time to find I had an entirely new name. Senora E! That's me. For some reason, it was the missing formality I needed. I never signed the certificate, which I thought I had to do. So, thank goodness for the sexist nature of the Spanish language and Mexico's insistence on referring to me by both "Senora" and E's name. After 5 days of hearing it, I finally believed it was true.
And, now, my friends, Senora E has some serious catching up in the real world to do. School and basic life responsibilities like cleaning were on pause 'til after the wedding. Now, despite what I may wish, the honeymoon *is* over. I have no excuse and very little time left 'til I'm no longer a law student (assuming all goes well...).
March 5, 2006
Day of Celebration
9 cases of wine for the wedding picked up from the hometown local winery. One bottle opened and tasted -- delicious relief that we won't be serving swill.
Avoiding the Tahoe traffic from my hometown by going through wine country -- fabulous.
Spending the day with E talking and thinking about how everything we did was probably the last time we were going to be doing that thing as a non-married couple -- surreal.
Arriving home to find the Corporations Gilbert's that I ordered to save me from the fall-out of the bottom of the priority list -- a relief.
Learning that my dad had a wonderful response to his first round of chemo and is much better than he was a month ago -- words fail me.
Hearing the oncologist tell us that my dad will probably be out of the hospital in time to attend the wedding in person -- emotional beyond words.
It's raining. According to weather.com it's probably going to rain on our wedding day. But a year ago E refused to let us select a venue without a gorgeous indoor facility. Smart guy, that E. Sure, there are only 6 days 'til the wedding and a billion things to do. But it's all falling into place, one piece at a time. I'm excited and happier than I could imagine.
9 cases of wine for the wedding picked up from the hometown local winery. One bottle opened and tasted -- delicious relief that we won't be serving swill.
Avoiding the Tahoe traffic from my hometown by going through wine country -- fabulous.
Spending the day with E talking and thinking about how everything we did was probably the last time we were going to be doing that thing as a non-married couple -- surreal.
Arriving home to find the Corporations Gilbert's that I ordered to save me from the fall-out of the bottom of the priority list -- a relief.
Learning that my dad had a wonderful response to his first round of chemo and is much better than he was a month ago -- words fail me.
Hearing the oncologist tell us that my dad will probably be out of the hospital in time to attend the wedding in person -- emotional beyond words.
It's raining. According to weather.com it's probably going to rain on our wedding day. But a year ago E refused to let us select a venue without a gorgeous indoor facility. Smart guy, that E. Sure, there are only 6 days 'til the wedding and a billion things to do. But it's all falling into place, one piece at a time. I'm excited and happier than I could imagine.
February 28, 2006
When she gets a boyfriend
Last night, after a visit to my father in the hospital and a long discussion with my siblings about the things family must discuss when a family member is gravely ill, I decided to forgo the drive back to the bay area in the rain and wait 'til this morning to drive straight to school.
My brother invited me to stay the night at his house. I happily agreed. When I arrived, my niece yelled from her room -- she didn't know I was coming over, but now that I was there, she wanted a story. I was more than happy to provide her with one. Then, I got to be the excuse for her to get out of bed and hang out with the adults for an extra half an hour. She loves it when I visit.
I've got a strong maternal response to my niece. When she has nightmares and I stay the night, I find myself in her room before I'm completely awake. When she makes noise in the night, I wake to realize that I've already evaluated the safety of what she is doing. This morning, she woke me at 7:30 with a tearful cry of "mama." I was out of bed and halfway to her room when she let out a second tearful cry of "[insert childish pronunciation of BT's name]."
Groggy, I walked into her room to find my brother telling me that I didn't need to get up, because he was ready to help her. But, she'd just said my name. Blindly (for I truly am blind without my glasses or contacts) I reached out for her and picked her up to confort her between her sobs. I didn't know what was wrong, but I knew I wanted to help. She wrapped her legs around my waist and hugged me tight before she said,
I peed the bed.
Yeah. Thanks kid.
Turns out, I figured it out from the warm wetness on my shirt. My brother was in the middle of trying to explain it to me as I picked her up, so after she told me what had happened, he tried valiantly not to laugh at me. He succeeded temporarily, but I laughed all day, and this evening's phone conversation assured me that he found the combination of my maternal instinct and blindness to be too funny for words.
Needless to say, I didn't just tuck her back in and go back to sleep 'til my alarm rang (the original plan). Instead, I headed for the shower and took my niece with me for good measure. Clearly, we both needed to be cleaned up. There was no need to make her parents get up just yet.
After the shower, we watched some "little mermaid" and my neice dressed herself in the most eclectic outfit I've seen in a while: pink beanie, red and black plaid skirt, red-white-and-blue sweater, green capris, and black ankle boots.
Like I said, she loves it when I come over. Stay up late. Dress yourself. How fun? And when she's older and dating, she's really going to love it more when I show up to tell this story to the lucky new boyfriend. I can't wait.
Last night, after a visit to my father in the hospital and a long discussion with my siblings about the things family must discuss when a family member is gravely ill, I decided to forgo the drive back to the bay area in the rain and wait 'til this morning to drive straight to school.
My brother invited me to stay the night at his house. I happily agreed. When I arrived, my niece yelled from her room -- she didn't know I was coming over, but now that I was there, she wanted a story. I was more than happy to provide her with one. Then, I got to be the excuse for her to get out of bed and hang out with the adults for an extra half an hour. She loves it when I visit.
I've got a strong maternal response to my niece. When she has nightmares and I stay the night, I find myself in her room before I'm completely awake. When she makes noise in the night, I wake to realize that I've already evaluated the safety of what she is doing. This morning, she woke me at 7:30 with a tearful cry of "mama." I was out of bed and halfway to her room when she let out a second tearful cry of "[insert childish pronunciation of BT's name]."
Groggy, I walked into her room to find my brother telling me that I didn't need to get up, because he was ready to help her. But, she'd just said my name. Blindly (for I truly am blind without my glasses or contacts) I reached out for her and picked her up to confort her between her sobs. I didn't know what was wrong, but I knew I wanted to help. She wrapped her legs around my waist and hugged me tight before she said,
I peed the bed.
Yeah. Thanks kid.
Turns out, I figured it out from the warm wetness on my shirt. My brother was in the middle of trying to explain it to me as I picked her up, so after she told me what had happened, he tried valiantly not to laugh at me. He succeeded temporarily, but I laughed all day, and this evening's phone conversation assured me that he found the combination of my maternal instinct and blindness to be too funny for words.
Needless to say, I didn't just tuck her back in and go back to sleep 'til my alarm rang (the original plan). Instead, I headed for the shower and took my niece with me for good measure. Clearly, we both needed to be cleaned up. There was no need to make her parents get up just yet.
After the shower, we watched some "little mermaid" and my neice dressed herself in the most eclectic outfit I've seen in a while: pink beanie, red and black plaid skirt, red-white-and-blue sweater, green capris, and black ankle boots.
Like I said, she loves it when I come over. Stay up late. Dress yourself. How fun? And when she's older and dating, she's really going to love it more when I show up to tell this story to the lucky new boyfriend. I can't wait.
February 26, 2006
I told E I wasn't going to blog
See, I've got a lot of law school reading to do. I swear I'm going to do it. I'm here, alone in my sister and dad's house.
I've eaten. I've done all the wedding things I can do from afar (including attending my lovely bridal shower at my mother's today). I've got no distractions except wireless.
And yet still, I feel compelled to write this very boring post instead of diving straight into community property reading.
This, my friends, is the reality of the third year of law school. Motivation? What's that?
See, I've got a lot of law school reading to do. I swear I'm going to do it. I'm here, alone in my sister and dad's house.
I've eaten. I've done all the wedding things I can do from afar (including attending my lovely bridal shower at my mother's today). I've got no distractions except wireless.
And yet still, I feel compelled to write this very boring post instead of diving straight into community property reading.
This, my friends, is the reality of the third year of law school. Motivation? What's that?
February 25, 2006
Debugging
I got one of those calls you never want to receive on Thursday AM. Stupidly, I followed my norm and left my cell phone in the car when I went to the gym. So, somewhere after mile 2, the loudspeaker beckoned me to the front desk for a call.
E was on the line, and he simple said:
Your sister called. She said it's bad.
I told him I was on my way home and immediately ran to my car. I tossed myself into clean clothes, threw an odd assortment of necessities into a backpack and hopped in the car. I fought traffic and found a new way to my hometown to avoid the commuter traffic.
I made it in more than enough time.
In fact, my dad's a trooper. He's doing much better. We had a very serious scare and he almost died, but now, he's back in this world and amazed at the time he lost to the fog. I'm so thankful. I'm also so overwhelmed at the support of family & friends.
But the funniest thing I learned from this experience is that debugging is debugging. The ICU is a great place if you've got someone sick you are worried about. They are hooked up to all sorts of monitors and you can just watch the screen. You can have instantaneous information about their heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen perfusion, heart beating pattern, breathing pressure and rate, and central venous pressure.
Imagine my surprise when the central venous pressure measurement came back unsatisfactory and the nurse tapped the plastic joint a few times with her hand and hit the reboot button on the monitor. The reading was still ludicrous. She didn't believe the measurement and with the intuition of one who has done this before, she walked the line with her hands and tapped each joint, turned each valve on and off and did all of the binary debugging techniques that one employes in software, mechanical and electrical debugging. It was somewhat disconcerting, since this is my dad's life on the line. But, since he was obviously doing better, it was also amusing. Ins and Outs, black box testing, white box testing. Rudimentary as it may seem, it's what they do with the human body too.
Amazing.
I got one of those calls you never want to receive on Thursday AM. Stupidly, I followed my norm and left my cell phone in the car when I went to the gym. So, somewhere after mile 2, the loudspeaker beckoned me to the front desk for a call.
E was on the line, and he simple said:
Your sister called. She said it's bad.
I told him I was on my way home and immediately ran to my car. I tossed myself into clean clothes, threw an odd assortment of necessities into a backpack and hopped in the car. I fought traffic and found a new way to my hometown to avoid the commuter traffic.
I made it in more than enough time.
In fact, my dad's a trooper. He's doing much better. We had a very serious scare and he almost died, but now, he's back in this world and amazed at the time he lost to the fog. I'm so thankful. I'm also so overwhelmed at the support of family & friends.
But the funniest thing I learned from this experience is that debugging is debugging. The ICU is a great place if you've got someone sick you are worried about. They are hooked up to all sorts of monitors and you can just watch the screen. You can have instantaneous information about their heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen perfusion, heart beating pattern, breathing pressure and rate, and central venous pressure.
Imagine my surprise when the central venous pressure measurement came back unsatisfactory and the nurse tapped the plastic joint a few times with her hand and hit the reboot button on the monitor. The reading was still ludicrous. She didn't believe the measurement and with the intuition of one who has done this before, she walked the line with her hands and tapped each joint, turned each valve on and off and did all of the binary debugging techniques that one employes in software, mechanical and electrical debugging. It was somewhat disconcerting, since this is my dad's life on the line. But, since he was obviously doing better, it was also amusing. Ins and Outs, black box testing, white box testing. Rudimentary as it may seem, it's what they do with the human body too.
Amazing.
February 22, 2006
The Blind Leading the Blind
I spent the long weekend in Palm Springs to celebrating the end of my single life with my bridesmaids and a few other close friends. It was one of the most wonderful gifts anyone has ever given me -- I felt so loved and happy. We ate good food, drank wine, talked, sat in the hot tub, went for a run, went shopping, and relaxed. Plus, I got gifts! E went to vegas with his guy friends and had a much less relaxing time for his bachelor party -- no gifts (except drinks), little to no sleep, hilarious escapades, and lots of poker -- I was jealous that he got to play poker; He was jealous that I was able to sleep and hang out in a hot tub.
My contribution to the bachelorette weekend was a blind tasting to choose the sparkling to be served at the wedding. I had received a wine tasting kit from my aunt a couple of years prior and this was the perfect opportunity to use it. So, I tossed the kit of papers, a roll of aluminum foil, some tape, and 7 bottles of sparkling wine packed into styrofoam shipping boxes into a checked bag (talk about extra luggage) and was pleasantly surprised when they all made it intact to the fridge in Palm Springs.
6 of the bottles were sparklings for the wedding reception -- a selection of various options all under $10 a bottle. The 7th was the K&L recommendation to my future in-laws for the champagne to be served at the Rehearsal dinner. Real champagne. From champagne. The clerk told me, "Many people think this champagne is a great alternative to Veuve Clicquot because it's a lesser known champagne that is in the same price range. But they are wrong, Veuve wouldn't be caught dead in the same room as this champagne. Veuve just can't compete with the density and complexity of this wine."
I was excited. I love the great widow and her wines. Anything that can make her sit out was most certainly going to be something I enjoyed.
I had originally been worried that with one really good bottle of champagne in the mix someone might be embarrassed if they didn't pick it out (read: me) or worse, that it would be so great that everything else would taste terrible. But, my deliberations to leave it out were squashed by my haste to get the bottles in foil and labeled with numbers -- I forgot to pull it out of the mix, so the tasting was truly blind.
After the pours (into plastic champagne glasses), we all tasted silently, observing the color and bubbles, sniffing, sipping, smelling, and taking notes. We started at the bottom of the barrel (so to speak) by voting on our least favorite. 6 of the 8 of us agreed that #2 was terrible and deserved the lowest ranking. Funky nose, odd lingering taste on the tongue, partially flat. Just terrible. (After the final votes were tallied, it was the only wine that garnered no votes for any top 3 places.)
I peeled back the foil and was shocked to see the maroon lettering on the foil proclaiming the Aspasie Brut Prestige from Ariston Fils. I couldn't believe it. It most likely was a bad bottle because the K&L people have never led me so far astray.
But, when I told E's dad of the results and asked if he'd like me to get them to provide us with another bottle to taste, he responded with the sage advice:
Never buy a pig in a poke. Unless you have time to spare, I'll just go with Veuve.
Right. By that logic, it's a good thing E & I lived together before marriage. Also, it turns out, I don't really have any time to spare (despite what the fact that I'm blogging right now might imply). 17 days and a billion things to do before the wedding.
Oh, and I'll share the fruits of our labor. The clear winner of the value sparkling tasting (favorite of 6 of 8, in the top 3 of everyone, those who ranked it lower tended to like sweeter sparklings--I like 'em more dry): the sparkling selection for the wedding is the Domaine J. Laurens Blanc de Blanc Brut Cremant de Limoux. Creamy nose, clean mineral body with a hint of lemon, and an unbeatable value at $9.99.
I spent the long weekend in Palm Springs to celebrating the end of my single life with my bridesmaids and a few other close friends. It was one of the most wonderful gifts anyone has ever given me -- I felt so loved and happy. We ate good food, drank wine, talked, sat in the hot tub, went for a run, went shopping, and relaxed. Plus, I got gifts! E went to vegas with his guy friends and had a much less relaxing time for his bachelor party -- no gifts (except drinks), little to no sleep, hilarious escapades, and lots of poker -- I was jealous that he got to play poker; He was jealous that I was able to sleep and hang out in a hot tub.
My contribution to the bachelorette weekend was a blind tasting to choose the sparkling to be served at the wedding. I had received a wine tasting kit from my aunt a couple of years prior and this was the perfect opportunity to use it. So, I tossed the kit of papers, a roll of aluminum foil, some tape, and 7 bottles of sparkling wine packed into styrofoam shipping boxes into a checked bag (talk about extra luggage) and was pleasantly surprised when they all made it intact to the fridge in Palm Springs.
6 of the bottles were sparklings for the wedding reception -- a selection of various options all under $10 a bottle. The 7th was the K&L recommendation to my future in-laws for the champagne to be served at the Rehearsal dinner. Real champagne. From champagne. The clerk told me, "Many people think this champagne is a great alternative to Veuve Clicquot because it's a lesser known champagne that is in the same price range. But they are wrong, Veuve wouldn't be caught dead in the same room as this champagne. Veuve just can't compete with the density and complexity of this wine."
I was excited. I love the great widow and her wines. Anything that can make her sit out was most certainly going to be something I enjoyed.
I had originally been worried that with one really good bottle of champagne in the mix someone might be embarrassed if they didn't pick it out (read: me) or worse, that it would be so great that everything else would taste terrible. But, my deliberations to leave it out were squashed by my haste to get the bottles in foil and labeled with numbers -- I forgot to pull it out of the mix, so the tasting was truly blind.
After the pours (into plastic champagne glasses), we all tasted silently, observing the color and bubbles, sniffing, sipping, smelling, and taking notes. We started at the bottom of the barrel (so to speak) by voting on our least favorite. 6 of the 8 of us agreed that #2 was terrible and deserved the lowest ranking. Funky nose, odd lingering taste on the tongue, partially flat. Just terrible. (After the final votes were tallied, it was the only wine that garnered no votes for any top 3 places.)
I peeled back the foil and was shocked to see the maroon lettering on the foil proclaiming the Aspasie Brut Prestige from Ariston Fils. I couldn't believe it. It most likely was a bad bottle because the K&L people have never led me so far astray.
But, when I told E's dad of the results and asked if he'd like me to get them to provide us with another bottle to taste, he responded with the sage advice:
Never buy a pig in a poke. Unless you have time to spare, I'll just go with Veuve.
Right. By that logic, it's a good thing E & I lived together before marriage. Also, it turns out, I don't really have any time to spare (despite what the fact that I'm blogging right now might imply). 17 days and a billion things to do before the wedding.
Oh, and I'll share the fruits of our labor. The clear winner of the value sparkling tasting (favorite of 6 of 8, in the top 3 of everyone, those who ranked it lower tended to like sweeter sparklings--I like 'em more dry): the sparkling selection for the wedding is the Domaine J. Laurens Blanc de Blanc Brut Cremant de Limoux. Creamy nose, clean mineral body with a hint of lemon, and an unbeatable value at $9.99.
February 16, 2006
Plug
I hate shopping.
Okay, hate is a strong word. But I really don't enjoy the process of being in malls or stores. There are a few exceptions, like grocery stores and small independent boutiques where I don't feel overwhelmed by all the stuff and people. This isn't to say I don't like getting new things. When I want something, I sincerely enjoy getting it. I just don't like finding new things more than I dislike dealing with stores and people in them.
So, Internet shopping was made for me. I've been an Amazon addict since long before the bubble burst. I started buying shoes at Zappos long before it was popular with the general public. I ordered my bridesmaids' shoes & my shoes from an online vendor and despite the troubles I had with them, I found it MUCH more pleasant than going to stores and dealing with the physical reality of shopping. I picked out my bridesmaids' dresses from one of my favorite online clothing vendors. Last night, after going to David's Bridal and being shocked at the price one can pay for a piece of mesh-on-a-comb, I decided to buy my veil online. A couple of weeks ago, I saved at least 40% over the physical vendor by purchasing my bridal petticoat online.
The one bummer about shopping online, from a regular's perspective, is the difficulty of returns & exchanges. After several false starts, I've found that it's best to frequent online stores that allow you to do returns in their physical stores if something you order online doesn't work for some reason. Walking straight to the counter to deal with a human is much more enjoyable than sitting in a phone queue to speak with a consultant in order to learn just how much of a pain and how expensive it's going to be to pack up the stuff they sent you and send it back.
Some vendors have figured this out, lately. My last order from Victoria's Secret came with a pre-printed shipping label for returns and exchanges. When the pants don't fit, fill out the exchange information, slap the label on the box they came in and drop it off at UPS. Nice.
But the best online return experience I've ever had was last night. L.L. Bean is the maker of the rolling bag I've been using for school since my last bag broke in October of '04. A few days ago, the retractable handle detached from my bag. After two days of carrying my billion pound bag on my shoulder, I gave in. So, last night, I called L. L. Bean, prepared to hear any number of messages about when I could call during business hours or how long the wait was. I was shocked when a human answered the phone after no ring at 10:30 PM. I was even more shocked to learn that they will send me a new bag and a shipping label to send back the old back. I'm out the cost of the new bag, but only until they receive the broken one when I send it back in the box they use for the new one.
16 months after purchase, my trusty bag spontaneously failed. Had it lasted 'til the end of school (19 months) I would have been completely satisfied. But now, after personal service with no wait on my time schedule, from the comfort of my own home, and a brand new bag is on its way for what will ultimately be no charge... Well, I'm more than satisfied. Consequently, I couldn't help but poke around their website to make plans to fill whatever needs I may have in the future from their site.
Man, I love the Internet.
I hate shopping.
Okay, hate is a strong word. But I really don't enjoy the process of being in malls or stores. There are a few exceptions, like grocery stores and small independent boutiques where I don't feel overwhelmed by all the stuff and people. This isn't to say I don't like getting new things. When I want something, I sincerely enjoy getting it. I just don't like finding new things more than I dislike dealing with stores and people in them.
So, Internet shopping was made for me. I've been an Amazon addict since long before the bubble burst. I started buying shoes at Zappos long before it was popular with the general public. I ordered my bridesmaids' shoes & my shoes from an online vendor and despite the troubles I had with them, I found it MUCH more pleasant than going to stores and dealing with the physical reality of shopping. I picked out my bridesmaids' dresses from one of my favorite online clothing vendors. Last night, after going to David's Bridal and being shocked at the price one can pay for a piece of mesh-on-a-comb, I decided to buy my veil online. A couple of weeks ago, I saved at least 40% over the physical vendor by purchasing my bridal petticoat online.
The one bummer about shopping online, from a regular's perspective, is the difficulty of returns & exchanges. After several false starts, I've found that it's best to frequent online stores that allow you to do returns in their physical stores if something you order online doesn't work for some reason. Walking straight to the counter to deal with a human is much more enjoyable than sitting in a phone queue to speak with a consultant in order to learn just how much of a pain and how expensive it's going to be to pack up the stuff they sent you and send it back.
Some vendors have figured this out, lately. My last order from Victoria's Secret came with a pre-printed shipping label for returns and exchanges. When the pants don't fit, fill out the exchange information, slap the label on the box they came in and drop it off at UPS. Nice.
But the best online return experience I've ever had was last night. L.L. Bean is the maker of the rolling bag I've been using for school since my last bag broke in October of '04. A few days ago, the retractable handle detached from my bag. After two days of carrying my billion pound bag on my shoulder, I gave in. So, last night, I called L. L. Bean, prepared to hear any number of messages about when I could call during business hours or how long the wait was. I was shocked when a human answered the phone after no ring at 10:30 PM. I was even more shocked to learn that they will send me a new bag and a shipping label to send back the old back. I'm out the cost of the new bag, but only until they receive the broken one when I send it back in the box they use for the new one.
16 months after purchase, my trusty bag spontaneously failed. Had it lasted 'til the end of school (19 months) I would have been completely satisfied. But now, after personal service with no wait on my time schedule, from the comfort of my own home, and a brand new bag is on its way for what will ultimately be no charge... Well, I'm more than satisfied. Consequently, I couldn't help but poke around their website to make plans to fill whatever needs I may have in the future from their site.
Man, I love the Internet.
February 15, 2006
Blogger sucks these days & I'm overwhelmed
Every time in the last few days I try to post, blogger is down.
Anecdotally, I've heard that Google has trouble keeping engineers employed on the blogger project... looks like the stories may be true with the amount of downtime and gross error messages I've been getting.
In other news, there are 22 days 'til the wedding, and I've got a million marriage things to do, finals to schedule, graduation stuff to figure out, my dad, and a little thing called law school.
No wonder I had insomnia at 3 AM this morning. I'm sure the inability to sleep had nothing to do with my fear of returning to the horrid dream from which I woke where I was alone in a room, because everyone else had already finished, but I was racing to finish a hand-written law school exam. The exam was a cream-colored form that looked like the moral character application and the wedding license application combined and for every page I finished two more would magically appear attached to the bottom of the pile.
Now. To clear a few items off the old checklist and hope for better sleep tonight...
Every time in the last few days I try to post, blogger is down.
Anecdotally, I've heard that Google has trouble keeping engineers employed on the blogger project... looks like the stories may be true with the amount of downtime and gross error messages I've been getting.
In other news, there are 22 days 'til the wedding, and I've got a million marriage things to do, finals to schedule, graduation stuff to figure out, my dad, and a little thing called law school.
No wonder I had insomnia at 3 AM this morning. I'm sure the inability to sleep had nothing to do with my fear of returning to the horrid dream from which I woke where I was alone in a room, because everyone else had already finished, but I was racing to finish a hand-written law school exam. The exam was a cream-colored form that looked like the moral character application and the wedding license application combined and for every page I finished two more would magically appear attached to the bottom of the pile.
Now. To clear a few items off the old checklist and hope for better sleep tonight...
February 11, 2006
The Restaurant Dream
I suffer from too much ambition. I am never bored. I want to do more things than my life will allow. One of those things I think I'd like to try, much like owning and working in my own hair salon, is owning a restaurant and working as the chef.
But, secretly, I feared that the magic of cooking would disappear when the portions became too big. I told myself that what I loved about cooking -- the fact that each time is subtly different creativity (because the ingredients are always in different stages of freshness, amounts, etc.), the fact that cooking is so primordially sense oriented (smell, taste, touch, feel), the fact that cooking is intuitively a combination of every time you've ever cooked before -- I told myself that those things would always be there, regardless of whether the cooking was for money or vanity.
Tonight, I did it for responsibility. My sister is living with my father and doing the majority of the hard-core legwork to take care of my dad. But I'm here on the weekends and he needs meals that are heavy in protein. Today, I decided one thing I could do to help would be to prepare meals that fit into his prescribed diet so my sister or father could just toss 'em in the oven and enjoy.
I made two pots worth of bolognese. I made 5 pans full of lasagna.
The repetitive nature of the large lot cooking didn't affect me negatively. It was still enjoyable. In fact, one of the odd things about cooking for me, the meditative aspect, was magnified by making multiple meals in one preparation.
Perhaps that restaurant dream should get moved up on the priority list...It seems like I'd really enjoy it.
P.S. about law school. Yeah, I'm on it... I took out my community property book last night and read at least 6 pages because I couldn't sleep (but then, I could.) Seriously, though. I'm slowly crawling out of my hole. I was caught up in Con law as of Thursday AM, but by Thursday PM that fleeting glory had passed. I'm still behind in all of my classes, but less so than two weeks ago. I hope to be caught up by the end of next week (as long as no cooking opportunities arise to distract me.)
I suffer from too much ambition. I am never bored. I want to do more things than my life will allow. One of those things I think I'd like to try, much like owning and working in my own hair salon, is owning a restaurant and working as the chef.
But, secretly, I feared that the magic of cooking would disappear when the portions became too big. I told myself that what I loved about cooking -- the fact that each time is subtly different creativity (because the ingredients are always in different stages of freshness, amounts, etc.), the fact that cooking is so primordially sense oriented (smell, taste, touch, feel), the fact that cooking is intuitively a combination of every time you've ever cooked before -- I told myself that those things would always be there, regardless of whether the cooking was for money or vanity.
Tonight, I did it for responsibility. My sister is living with my father and doing the majority of the hard-core legwork to take care of my dad. But I'm here on the weekends and he needs meals that are heavy in protein. Today, I decided one thing I could do to help would be to prepare meals that fit into his prescribed diet so my sister or father could just toss 'em in the oven and enjoy.
I made two pots worth of bolognese. I made 5 pans full of lasagna.
The repetitive nature of the large lot cooking didn't affect me negatively. It was still enjoyable. In fact, one of the odd things about cooking for me, the meditative aspect, was magnified by making multiple meals in one preparation.
Perhaps that restaurant dream should get moved up on the priority list...It seems like I'd really enjoy it.
P.S. about law school. Yeah, I'm on it... I took out my community property book last night and read at least 6 pages because I couldn't sleep (but then, I could.) Seriously, though. I'm slowly crawling out of my hole. I was caught up in Con law as of Thursday AM, but by Thursday PM that fleeting glory had passed. I'm still behind in all of my classes, but less so than two weeks ago. I hope to be caught up by the end of next week (as long as no cooking opportunities arise to distract me.)
February 9, 2006
February 8, 2006
'Nuff Said
Link thanks to magic cookie.
biting tongue -- [noun]: A deadly strain of projectiile vomit 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Link thanks to magic cookie.
February 7, 2006
Spinach-mushroom cornbread casserole
It's that time again. Yeah, that's right, instead of finishing my Moral Character Application for the Bar, like a good law kid, I'm cooking.
Anyways, this one turned out pretty damn awesome. It started as an idea for spinach quiche to kill the large number of eggs in the fridge. Then, after we had eggs for breakfast on Sunday, but I'd already promised Spinach casserole to E ('cause real men don't each quiche, as a former roommate once informed me by giving me a much appreciated book), I had to do some quick thinking. So, I did what I could with the list that I'd already sent E to the store with, which involved 1 pound of spinach, a couple of handfulls of mushrooms and well... I figured I'd wing it from there.
And I did!
Try this recipe on for size if you've got similar ingredients (feel free to improvise, you know I did...note the lack of crust, the low number of eggs and the creative use of pantry extras.)
1. Chop 1/4 white onion and 2 cloves of garlic. Throw into large saucepan and turn heat to medium. Pre-heat oven to 350F.
2. Think about adding olive oil to sauce pan. Realize you have 1/2 cup unused sun-dried tomatoes in oil, add them instead. Sautee 'til onions are clear.
3. Add 2-3 handfulls of sliced mushrooms, realize the oil from the tomatoes is insufficient to cook them.
4. Add 1/2 stick of butter. Sautee mushrooms, onions, garlic. When S/O comments on wonderful smell, smile knowingly -- you planned this all along, remember?
5. After mushrooms are covered in butter and have absorbed all possible grease (which isn't a ton, in all fairness) add 3/4 lb of fresh spinach. Sautee 'til wilted throughout. Turn off burner.
6. Beat 3 remaining eggs and the last tidbits of the coffee half-and-half pint in a metal bowl (approx 1 Tablespoon). Add 1 box cornbread mix that's been sitting in your pantry for at least one year (less aging time will probably be okay, although it'll lose some of the subtle qualities that make this meal really shine).
7. Crumble any crumbling cheese you can find into the egg/cornbread batter (I used approx 2 T of cotija). Fold cheese into batter.
8. Fold spinach/mushroom/butter/onion/garlic/spinach-water-dripping mix into egg/cheese/cornbread batter.
9. Butter a 9X12 baking pan. Pour batter/spinach mixture into pan. Cover with grated cheddar (1-2 T left in a sorry-looking rectangular prism in the fridge) and parmigiano (stop when you have 1/2 an inch covering every visible square centimeter).
10. Top with a liberal sprinkling of ground white pepper (no doubt any pepper will do).
10. Bake in pre-heated oven for 20 minutes.
11. Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes. Serve immediately by cutting into squares. (Note: it should dish from the pan easily in one structurally sound unit. If not, something went wrong. I take no responsibility.)
It's that time again. Yeah, that's right, instead of finishing my Moral Character Application for the Bar, like a good law kid, I'm cooking.
Anyways, this one turned out pretty damn awesome. It started as an idea for spinach quiche to kill the large number of eggs in the fridge. Then, after we had eggs for breakfast on Sunday, but I'd already promised Spinach casserole to E ('cause real men don't each quiche, as a former roommate once informed me by giving me a much appreciated book), I had to do some quick thinking. So, I did what I could with the list that I'd already sent E to the store with, which involved 1 pound of spinach, a couple of handfulls of mushrooms and well... I figured I'd wing it from there.
And I did!
Try this recipe on for size if you've got similar ingredients (feel free to improvise, you know I did...note the lack of crust, the low number of eggs and the creative use of pantry extras.)
1. Chop 1/4 white onion and 2 cloves of garlic. Throw into large saucepan and turn heat to medium. Pre-heat oven to 350F.
2. Think about adding olive oil to sauce pan. Realize you have 1/2 cup unused sun-dried tomatoes in oil, add them instead. Sautee 'til onions are clear.
3. Add 2-3 handfulls of sliced mushrooms, realize the oil from the tomatoes is insufficient to cook them.
4. Add 1/2 stick of butter. Sautee mushrooms, onions, garlic. When S/O comments on wonderful smell, smile knowingly -- you planned this all along, remember?
5. After mushrooms are covered in butter and have absorbed all possible grease (which isn't a ton, in all fairness) add 3/4 lb of fresh spinach. Sautee 'til wilted throughout. Turn off burner.
6. Beat 3 remaining eggs and the last tidbits of the coffee half-and-half pint in a metal bowl (approx 1 Tablespoon). Add 1 box cornbread mix that's been sitting in your pantry for at least one year (less aging time will probably be okay, although it'll lose some of the subtle qualities that make this meal really shine).
7. Crumble any crumbling cheese you can find into the egg/cornbread batter (I used approx 2 T of cotija). Fold cheese into batter.
8. Fold spinach/mushroom/butter/onion/garlic/spinach-water-dripping mix into egg/cheese/cornbread batter.
9. Butter a 9X12 baking pan. Pour batter/spinach mixture into pan. Cover with grated cheddar (1-2 T left in a sorry-looking rectangular prism in the fridge) and parmigiano (stop when you have 1/2 an inch covering every visible square centimeter).
10. Top with a liberal sprinkling of ground white pepper (no doubt any pepper will do).
10. Bake in pre-heated oven for 20 minutes.
11. Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes. Serve immediately by cutting into squares. (Note: it should dish from the pan easily in one structurally sound unit. If not, something went wrong. I take no responsibility.)
School?
So far this week, I've paid bills, done my taxes and cleared up a million little things for the wedding.
My big goal is to get the Moral Character application finished for the California Bar Exam. Yeah, I'm late. I know. I've also got monitoring of my dad via phone and more wedding chores.
Needless to say, this puts reading somewhere near the bottom of my priority list. Which is too bad. Because yesterday I went to Con Law after having done the reading and realized... oh, right, lecture is really just an overview when you've done the reading. It's so much easier to take notes when you know how to do things like spell the case name.
So far this semester, I've done the following (I should really list it in terms of what I haven't done, many more 100% that way):
1. About 75% of the Con Law reading.
2. None of the community property reading.
3. About 15% of the IP reading.
4. None of the corporations reading. (by design, I intend to use only my notes and an outline for this course, but I've also missed quite a bit of class)
Perhaps this weekend will be the one where I catch up...(after finishing the moral character application, of course.) Perhaps not.
So far this week, I've paid bills, done my taxes and cleared up a million little things for the wedding.
My big goal is to get the Moral Character application finished for the California Bar Exam. Yeah, I'm late. I know. I've also got monitoring of my dad via phone and more wedding chores.
Needless to say, this puts reading somewhere near the bottom of my priority list. Which is too bad. Because yesterday I went to Con Law after having done the reading and realized... oh, right, lecture is really just an overview when you've done the reading. It's so much easier to take notes when you know how to do things like spell the case name.
So far this semester, I've done the following (I should really list it in terms of what I haven't done, many more 100% that way):
1. About 75% of the Con Law reading.
2. None of the community property reading.
3. About 15% of the IP reading.
4. None of the corporations reading. (by design, I intend to use only my notes and an outline for this course, but I've also missed quite a bit of class)
Perhaps this weekend will be the one where I catch up...(after finishing the moral character application, of course.) Perhaps not.
February 4, 2006
His dream wedding
[BT & E looking at the wedding checklist]
E: Wedding insurance? Do we have to get that?
BT: Yes.
E: [looks confused]
BT: We are required to get a policy to cover $1,000,000 worth of damage/liability for the wedding. It's on the to do list for this week. I've got to call the homeowner's insurance agent, and if they won't cover it, get a policy through one of the independent vendors.
E: So, what you are saying is, we are fully covered if this thing blows into a full-fledged riot?
BT: No.
E: And by no, you mean awesome, right?
[BT & E looking at the wedding checklist]
E: Wedding insurance? Do we have to get that?
BT: Yes.
E: [looks confused]
BT: We are required to get a policy to cover $1,000,000 worth of damage/liability for the wedding. It's on the to do list for this week. I've got to call the homeowner's insurance agent, and if they won't cover it, get a policy through one of the independent vendors.
E: So, what you are saying is, we are fully covered if this thing blows into a full-fledged riot?
BT: No.
E: And by no, you mean awesome, right?
Almost Back
My two days to support the fam expanded and combined with last weekend's move of my sister and dad turned into me spending 7 of the last 9 nights in my hometown. Thankfully, if all goes well this morning (which it looked like it would as of last night), my dad will be released from the hospital today and welcomed into his new home (which he still hasn't seen, now that it is furnished).
I have learned the following useful facts:
1. Hospitals are a great place to study. No distractions if you can find a quiet place, like the "activity room" for visitors.
2. With the help of hospital vending, I can extend the life of a 12-pack of diet coke to 4 days.
3. There is no substitute for having family or friends with you while you are in the hospital.
4. The wrong pain medication can make a patient seem MUCH sicker than they actually are.
5. Time is dilated in the hospital. It feels like I cut a billion days of school and I'm never going to catch up. But in reality, it was 3 days. I have missed more for lesser priorities like moot court and OCI. I will be fine.
Here's to going home to E and my normal life!
My two days to support the fam expanded and combined with last weekend's move of my sister and dad turned into me spending 7 of the last 9 nights in my hometown. Thankfully, if all goes well this morning (which it looked like it would as of last night), my dad will be released from the hospital today and welcomed into his new home (which he still hasn't seen, now that it is furnished).
I have learned the following useful facts:
1. Hospitals are a great place to study. No distractions if you can find a quiet place, like the "activity room" for visitors.
2. With the help of hospital vending, I can extend the life of a 12-pack of diet coke to 4 days.
3. There is no substitute for having family or friends with you while you are in the hospital.
4. The wrong pain medication can make a patient seem MUCH sicker than they actually are.
5. Time is dilated in the hospital. It feels like I cut a billion days of school and I'm never going to catch up. But in reality, it was 3 days. I have missed more for lesser priorities like moot court and OCI. I will be fine.
Here's to going home to E and my normal life!
January 31, 2006
Another Benefit of Law School
My dad, sister, and brother needed me in my hometown today. Tomorrow too.
So, I just hopped in the car and accepted that I would skip school. I'd already played hooky for the wedding. And now, I had a better reason, so I did it again.
Granted, I'm setting myself up for some stellar grades this semester.
But it's a glorious privilege. I can just cut class, do the reading (at some point, I swear), bother my friends for notes (I've been an atypical law student in my generous note-giving nature, and it's finally going to pay off!), and take the exam at the end of the semester. Given the arbitrary nature of law school grades, I'll never even notice the effect of the one nugget or two that I would have received and actually remembered to use on the exam had I been in class.
Ahhhh...wonderful school.
My dad, sister, and brother needed me in my hometown today. Tomorrow too.
So, I just hopped in the car and accepted that I would skip school. I'd already played hooky for the wedding. And now, I had a better reason, so I did it again.
Granted, I'm setting myself up for some stellar grades this semester.
But it's a glorious privilege. I can just cut class, do the reading (at some point, I swear), bother my friends for notes (I've been an atypical law student in my generous note-giving nature, and it's finally going to pay off!), and take the exam at the end of the semester. Given the arbitrary nature of law school grades, I'll never even notice the effect of the one nugget or two that I would have received and actually remembered to use on the exam had I been in class.
Ahhhh...wonderful school.
January 29, 2006
Ode to Construction Workers
This weekend, my sister, my brother, and I moved my father's old house, my father's storage unit, and my sister's apartment into a shared house for my sister and father.
Unfortunately, my father is sick. But when he's healthy, he works in construction. My brother is I-ate-two-breakfasts-this-morning healthy. He also works in construction. Both of them have an amazingly loyal, hardworking, and hilarious set of friends.
I arrived in my hometown last Thursday night. I visited my father in the hospital with my sister and brother and stayed the night with my brother, niece, and de-facto sister-in-law. Friday during the day, I packed what I could in my father's house until Friday evening, when after a full day of manual labor, my brother and no less than 6 of his big, burley friends arrived to load and unload heavy things into multiple trailers and trucks. Saturday morning, some of my father's big burley friends joined the action.
Uhaul? Puh-leeze. We're talking about men who attach trailer hitches to trucks for fun. Then, they pull out their air compressors, attach the hoses, pump up the tires on their hydraulic trailers, and attach those to the recently attached trailer hitches. I had no idea how many different varieties of gates came on trailers. Side gates, unfolding back gates, full metal gates that swing down, gates that open into two side flaps, those that turn into ramps, what do you need?
Each of these men took time out of their evenings and weekends to show up with their trucks, trailers, and muscles to make what would have been an impossibly overwhelming task amazingly possible.
My sister and I couldn't say thank you enough.
The men looked at us like we were crazy. They got food and beer (of course). There was no need for thanks. This is what you do for friends. It's just part of their code.
Sometimes, I'm amazed that I've chosen a career in a world that is so removed from real world problems. I'm happy for the mental gymnastics of legal problems. I love thinking about theories and what-if. But, at the end of the day, when people really need something, it's basic things like food, fun, strength, loyalty, dependable friends and family, and general social codes that make them feel content and safe.
As a general rule, by the time you need a lawyer in a real emergency, the world has spiraled so far outside of the social norms that everyone is uncomfortable and no one is happy to see the law-talking-dude. In times of real, immediate, human need, lawyers aren't that helpful, or at least, they aren't something you are thankful to have.
Construction workers, on the other hand. . .well, you'd be an idiot not to be thankful to have one or more in your family. They know how to fix all the stuff I take for granted (plumbing, electricity, doors, etc.) and they are happy to do so when they see something that's broken in your place (if you are family). Better yet, when the going gets rough, those guys are there for their brethren without a thought. It's humbling. It makes the cut-throat world of law school look even sillier than it already appeared.
This weekend, my sister, my brother, and I moved my father's old house, my father's storage unit, and my sister's apartment into a shared house for my sister and father.
Unfortunately, my father is sick. But when he's healthy, he works in construction. My brother is I-ate-two-breakfasts-this-morning healthy. He also works in construction. Both of them have an amazingly loyal, hardworking, and hilarious set of friends.
I arrived in my hometown last Thursday night. I visited my father in the hospital with my sister and brother and stayed the night with my brother, niece, and de-facto sister-in-law. Friday during the day, I packed what I could in my father's house until Friday evening, when after a full day of manual labor, my brother and no less than 6 of his big, burley friends arrived to load and unload heavy things into multiple trailers and trucks. Saturday morning, some of my father's big burley friends joined the action.
Uhaul? Puh-leeze. We're talking about men who attach trailer hitches to trucks for fun. Then, they pull out their air compressors, attach the hoses, pump up the tires on their hydraulic trailers, and attach those to the recently attached trailer hitches. I had no idea how many different varieties of gates came on trailers. Side gates, unfolding back gates, full metal gates that swing down, gates that open into two side flaps, those that turn into ramps, what do you need?
Each of these men took time out of their evenings and weekends to show up with their trucks, trailers, and muscles to make what would have been an impossibly overwhelming task amazingly possible.
My sister and I couldn't say thank you enough.
The men looked at us like we were crazy. They got food and beer (of course). There was no need for thanks. This is what you do for friends. It's just part of their code.
Sometimes, I'm amazed that I've chosen a career in a world that is so removed from real world problems. I'm happy for the mental gymnastics of legal problems. I love thinking about theories and what-if. But, at the end of the day, when people really need something, it's basic things like food, fun, strength, loyalty, dependable friends and family, and general social codes that make them feel content and safe.
As a general rule, by the time you need a lawyer in a real emergency, the world has spiraled so far outside of the social norms that everyone is uncomfortable and no one is happy to see the law-talking-dude. In times of real, immediate, human need, lawyers aren't that helpful, or at least, they aren't something you are thankful to have.
Construction workers, on the other hand. . .well, you'd be an idiot not to be thankful to have one or more in your family. They know how to fix all the stuff I take for granted (plumbing, electricity, doors, etc.) and they are happy to do so when they see something that's broken in your place (if you are family). Better yet, when the going gets rough, those guys are there for their brethren without a thought. It's humbling. It makes the cut-throat world of law school look even sillier than it already appeared.
January 25, 2006
On White Trash
In response to my last post, law girl commented,
I'm sorry, but I will never understand why anyone thinks "white trash" is an appropriate term to describe any group of people. I'm especially surprised that you, a blogger who appears to be very thoughtful and considerate, would use that term. Thanks for letting me comment.
First, you are welcome to comment. I appreciate it when my readers take the time to let me know what they are thinking, and I very much enjoy the thoughts inspired by comments to my blog that I otherwise wouldn't have had.
Second, law girl, you most certainly have a point. Many people find "white trash" to be a disparaging term, and, no doubt many people find its use to be inappropriate. The Rant/flame war on Wikipedia regarding the white trash article, is still very much alive (last post 1/21/06) and helped me understand just how loaded this term is.
Like some of my other posts, my flippant use of a term that offends displays a less than attractive aspect of my true self – I often say and use language in a thoughtless manner. Afterwards, I marvel at my foot in my mouth and wonder how it got there.
But, for better or for worse, I also rarely beat myself up for my use of terms that upset people. I try to be kind, polite, and respectful of others in my day-to-day dealings with the world. I am aware, however, that I am not as successful in my efforts as many kinder, more polite people (whom I admire).
For example, I swear quite often. In public. In my writing. Sometimes in front of children (although I do try not to do so, but sometimes I slip). Why? I'm not sure. I like the power of swear words. I think they convey things that ordinary words can't. Also, I don't want to be locked in a box of politesse at all times. Swearing, for me, is a subtle form of rebellion and affirmation of autonomy in a life lived primarily within the prescribed lines.
I also know that even without swearing, if I express my opinions, I will offend some people. Every time I open my mouth, I am making a choice between saying nothing, and risking offending. I do strive to offend as few as possible most of the time. Occasionally, though, I just give in to my honest thoughts and bare them to the world. Sometimes people laugh. Sometimes people are appalled. And sometimes, no one even notices.
Often, these inadvertent appalling moments occur because I also pride myself on being very honest and forthright. But some have accused me of being brutally honest. At other times, I offend people when I find something funny. Humor is difficult. One man's pain is often another man's laughter.
One lesson that I have learned from E is to embrace the humor in life and laugh at it. Our ability to laugh at the absurdity of life is one of the greatest things about being human. But sometimes, people find laughter at something to which they are sensitive to be hurtful. I certainly have experienced pain when others laughed at something I found hurtful. But I've also been envious, because sometimes, it is only when you can laugh at something that used to hurt you that you know you are healed from the pain.
In this case, I thought I was making a funny comment when I used the term "white trash." Most likely, part of the reason I found it humorous and funny is because I am suffering from that most wonderful of habits whereby those that would be disparaged by a term embrace it as their own. Whether I like it or not, white trash is a commonly used term and many people imagine a certain stereotype when they hear it. Several members of my immediate and extended family (myself included) have and/or do exhibit some of the behaviors that most people imagine when they use the term. Several members of my neighborhood also exhibit behavior that falls into this stereotype. I must admit, however, I was blissfully unaware of the racism inherent in the term, as are my relatives who use it to describe themselves. For us, it is a term to describe a way of life, at worst a classist slur, but one to which any ethnicity can be subject.
I *like* that I live in my neighborhood, and I *like* that there's a working class and occasionally not-so-working class in my neighborhood that reminds me of my family. They are good people. But, on occasion, members of my neighborhood do walk near the edges of my understanding of "white trash" in a way that I find hilariously funny. For example, when a young boy steals (assumed, but makes sense from what I heard the cops say) a blue trans-am, crashes into a white truck with a bumper sticker that says, "gun control means using both hands" and plows across the lawn into someone's home, to me, that's funny.
When writing in my blog, sometimes the power of a stereotypical image is too descriptive and funny to resist. Perhaps if I were a more talented writer I would not fall prey to such an easy cliche. But, I fear the humor may also have been lost if I had made an effort to speak more politely. It didn't occur to me that it might be considered ill-bred or offensive to use the term because it is one that I have embraced on occasion to describe myself, as have many of my family, friends, and I suspect (although I haven't taken a poll) so have many in my neighborhood.
But, law girl does have a point. I most certainly would and do avoid the use of derogative terms that describe groups to which I do not feel that I belong. I avoid those terms for the sake of politeness, to avoid hurting the feelings of the members of those groups, and I carefully structure my language to avoid giving the appearance that I endorse racism, bigotry, and the other negative labels that are applied to those who callously use certain derogatory terms that bring stereotypical images to mind.
So where does this leave me on the white trash issue?
Actually, I'm not certain. My gut instinct was to suggest that perhaps when a group embraces a negative term and makes it their own, there can be some empowerment in that action. Perhaps I'm empowered by my use of the term (without it's modifier "poor" with the "white trash" used to describe the behaviors, not limit the race of those being discussed). But, Wikipedia on Nigga led me to question this idea. I know that I think the use of derogative terms in professional, academic, research, and other serious writing is improper and should be avoided. But, for some reason, I think that when I opt to use a term that historically has been used to negatively describe my ancestors in order to make a joke, it's not offensive, it's healthy.
I want to believe that it's good that I can laugh at the term. Perhaps the humor in this particular situation lies largely in the fact that no one in my suburban, liberal, tech-heavy and multi-cultural neighborhood actual fits into the "white trash" stereotype as a whole (who does?), and yet many of us exhibit some of the behaviors associated with this term. Perhaps the humor for me is in the ignorance of the stereotype when confronted with the complexity of life. I'm not sure. I just find it funny.
Regardless of whether I show my ignorance by making the comment and laughing, however, I am a fan of free speech. I may choose not to use disparaging terms that describe groups to which I don't belong, but I don't want to live in a world where other people can't do so. There will always be the gray area between what I think is polite and what you think is polite, what I think is proper and what you think is proper, etc. The trick is living in a society, civilly, alongside one another, forgiving one another for our idiocy, and ideally, eventually educating each other on why we use the words we do.
In sum, in response to Law Girl's comment, I read some very thought-provoking stuff. (I certainly had never considered whether there was any inherent anti-black racism in the term "white trash".) So, I'm glad I used the term this time. It was educational. I'm not certain whether I'll use it in the future. I know plenty of people who don't find its use offensive, most of whom, like me, have family that fit the stereotype. Even if I decide to continue using it for humor's sake, I'll definitely think about it in a much more complex manner than before. So, thank you, Law Girl.
In response to my last post, law girl commented,
I'm sorry, but I will never understand why anyone thinks "white trash" is an appropriate term to describe any group of people. I'm especially surprised that you, a blogger who appears to be very thoughtful and considerate, would use that term. Thanks for letting me comment.
First, you are welcome to comment. I appreciate it when my readers take the time to let me know what they are thinking, and I very much enjoy the thoughts inspired by comments to my blog that I otherwise wouldn't have had.
Second, law girl, you most certainly have a point. Many people find "white trash" to be a disparaging term, and, no doubt many people find its use to be inappropriate. The Rant/flame war on Wikipedia regarding the white trash article, is still very much alive (last post 1/21/06) and helped me understand just how loaded this term is.
Like some of my other posts, my flippant use of a term that offends displays a less than attractive aspect of my true self – I often say and use language in a thoughtless manner. Afterwards, I marvel at my foot in my mouth and wonder how it got there.
But, for better or for worse, I also rarely beat myself up for my use of terms that upset people. I try to be kind, polite, and respectful of others in my day-to-day dealings with the world. I am aware, however, that I am not as successful in my efforts as many kinder, more polite people (whom I admire).
For example, I swear quite often. In public. In my writing. Sometimes in front of children (although I do try not to do so, but sometimes I slip). Why? I'm not sure. I like the power of swear words. I think they convey things that ordinary words can't. Also, I don't want to be locked in a box of politesse at all times. Swearing, for me, is a subtle form of rebellion and affirmation of autonomy in a life lived primarily within the prescribed lines.
I also know that even without swearing, if I express my opinions, I will offend some people. Every time I open my mouth, I am making a choice between saying nothing, and risking offending. I do strive to offend as few as possible most of the time. Occasionally, though, I just give in to my honest thoughts and bare them to the world. Sometimes people laugh. Sometimes people are appalled. And sometimes, no one even notices.
Often, these inadvertent appalling moments occur because I also pride myself on being very honest and forthright. But some have accused me of being brutally honest. At other times, I offend people when I find something funny. Humor is difficult. One man's pain is often another man's laughter.
One lesson that I have learned from E is to embrace the humor in life and laugh at it. Our ability to laugh at the absurdity of life is one of the greatest things about being human. But sometimes, people find laughter at something to which they are sensitive to be hurtful. I certainly have experienced pain when others laughed at something I found hurtful. But I've also been envious, because sometimes, it is only when you can laugh at something that used to hurt you that you know you are healed from the pain.
In this case, I thought I was making a funny comment when I used the term "white trash." Most likely, part of the reason I found it humorous and funny is because I am suffering from that most wonderful of habits whereby those that would be disparaged by a term embrace it as their own. Whether I like it or not, white trash is a commonly used term and many people imagine a certain stereotype when they hear it. Several members of my immediate and extended family (myself included) have and/or do exhibit some of the behaviors that most people imagine when they use the term. Several members of my neighborhood also exhibit behavior that falls into this stereotype. I must admit, however, I was blissfully unaware of the racism inherent in the term, as are my relatives who use it to describe themselves. For us, it is a term to describe a way of life, at worst a classist slur, but one to which any ethnicity can be subject.
I *like* that I live in my neighborhood, and I *like* that there's a working class and occasionally not-so-working class in my neighborhood that reminds me of my family. They are good people. But, on occasion, members of my neighborhood do walk near the edges of my understanding of "white trash" in a way that I find hilariously funny. For example, when a young boy steals (assumed, but makes sense from what I heard the cops say) a blue trans-am, crashes into a white truck with a bumper sticker that says, "gun control means using both hands" and plows across the lawn into someone's home, to me, that's funny.
When writing in my blog, sometimes the power of a stereotypical image is too descriptive and funny to resist. Perhaps if I were a more talented writer I would not fall prey to such an easy cliche. But, I fear the humor may also have been lost if I had made an effort to speak more politely. It didn't occur to me that it might be considered ill-bred or offensive to use the term because it is one that I have embraced on occasion to describe myself, as have many of my family, friends, and I suspect (although I haven't taken a poll) so have many in my neighborhood.
But, law girl does have a point. I most certainly would and do avoid the use of derogative terms that describe groups to which I do not feel that I belong. I avoid those terms for the sake of politeness, to avoid hurting the feelings of the members of those groups, and I carefully structure my language to avoid giving the appearance that I endorse racism, bigotry, and the other negative labels that are applied to those who callously use certain derogatory terms that bring stereotypical images to mind.
So where does this leave me on the white trash issue?
Actually, I'm not certain. My gut instinct was to suggest that perhaps when a group embraces a negative term and makes it their own, there can be some empowerment in that action. Perhaps I'm empowered by my use of the term (without it's modifier "poor" with the "white trash" used to describe the behaviors, not limit the race of those being discussed). But, Wikipedia on Nigga led me to question this idea. I know that I think the use of derogative terms in professional, academic, research, and other serious writing is improper and should be avoided. But, for some reason, I think that when I opt to use a term that historically has been used to negatively describe my ancestors in order to make a joke, it's not offensive, it's healthy.
I want to believe that it's good that I can laugh at the term. Perhaps the humor in this particular situation lies largely in the fact that no one in my suburban, liberal, tech-heavy and multi-cultural neighborhood actual fits into the "white trash" stereotype as a whole (who does?), and yet many of us exhibit some of the behaviors associated with this term. Perhaps the humor for me is in the ignorance of the stereotype when confronted with the complexity of life. I'm not sure. I just find it funny.
Regardless of whether I show my ignorance by making the comment and laughing, however, I am a fan of free speech. I may choose not to use disparaging terms that describe groups to which I don't belong, but I don't want to live in a world where other people can't do so. There will always be the gray area between what I think is polite and what you think is polite, what I think is proper and what you think is proper, etc. The trick is living in a society, civilly, alongside one another, forgiving one another for our idiocy, and ideally, eventually educating each other on why we use the words we do.
In sum, in response to Law Girl's comment, I read some very thought-provoking stuff. (I certainly had never considered whether there was any inherent anti-black racism in the term "white trash".) So, I'm glad I used the term this time. It was educational. I'm not certain whether I'll use it in the future. I know plenty of people who don't find its use offensive, most of whom, like me, have family that fit the stereotype. Even if I decide to continue using it for humor's sake, I'll definitely think about it in a much more complex manner than before. So, thank you, Law Girl.
January 24, 2006
Free as a Bird
Tuesdays, I don't have class 'til 12:40 PM. I'm sad that when I return to the real world I won't know what it's like to sleep in and work out before thinking about important tasks.
So, this morning, I took full advantage. I slept in briefly, ran 6.5 miles, and then came home to find all the local old people gawking at the street. As I walked towards my house, a fire engine rolled up slowly with its lights flashing and siren on so low that I shook my head to see if I was just filling in the music with my imagination.
Nope. It was a real emergency. I asked the nearest older couple (gotta love the old folks: at least 5 older couples had walked out to the sidewalks in front of their homes -- they didn't go to the scene of the problem, but they were there, observing, commenting, and ready to share with me.) what happened and they pointed and explained. Apparently, a blue Trans Am (yeah, I live in a slightly white trash neighborhood. What?) was driven fast down our sleepy little street by a very young boy, that one, over there [cut to 15-year-old looking kid with a ponytail on his cell phone]. According to the neighborhood watch, he sideswiped a white truck and careened into the house of my acrossed-the-street-neighbor.
It was very exciting stuff for my neighborhood. No one was hurt. I was lucky enough to be having a slow day, so I was back a half a mile instead of on the sidewalk in his path when he careened across my neighbor's lawn.
My morning proceeded in a surreal kind of way after that.
E still hadn't left for work when I returned from my run, which was odd. So, we both went back outside to gawk with the elders at the car, the police, the boy, the firefighters, the lawn, and the perfectly intact across-the-street house.
After we tired of what passes for drama in these parts, I took my shower and loaded my car to 1) go to the post office and mail the invitations and 2) get the bridesmaids' shoes dyed. I gave myself an hour to accomplish both tasks.
I was severely conservative in my estimate. First, there was a line full of crazy people at the post office. There always is. That's one constant. No matter what country, state, or city you are in, there are crazies in line at the post office. I know this. But, I forgot.
Then, when I got to the counter, I found out that my gorgeous invitations are too heavy for the one stamp each that E so carefully affixed last night. So I spent 40 minutes affixing 24 cents of additional postage to each envelope (except the international ones). That's one sticker stamp and one good old fashioned lick-it-and-stick-it stamp per envelope my friends. Fun!
By the time I left the post office, I knew I wasn't going to make it to corporations. At first, I thought of how to get notes, and tried to tell myself that it didn't matter. But then, all of a sudden, I felt like undergrad. I had a flashback to what it felt like to have priorities above school. Not just any priorities, but fun priorities like athletics, sleep, and a social life. And, I smiled. Because I've returned, finally. My wedding is more important to me than today's corporations class.
How decadent!
I just skipped a very expensive, but very boring class to hang out in the post office with the crazies and get those invites in the mail. Then, I went to the cobbler and dealt with the shoes to be dyed. The weather was gorgeous, there was a spring in my step and I found myself walking in the middle of the day during the middle of the week with my sunglasses on -- grinning.
I am a student. I am free to skip class. It's a freedom those in the working world don't have. And today, I took advantage of it -- Finally. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I still haven't read a single page for this semester, but I have managed to locate complete outlines, class notes, and/or lecture slides for each professor/class I'm taking.
I am a 3L, hear me roar.
Tuesdays, I don't have class 'til 12:40 PM. I'm sad that when I return to the real world I won't know what it's like to sleep in and work out before thinking about important tasks.
So, this morning, I took full advantage. I slept in briefly, ran 6.5 miles, and then came home to find all the local old people gawking at the street. As I walked towards my house, a fire engine rolled up slowly with its lights flashing and siren on so low that I shook my head to see if I was just filling in the music with my imagination.
Nope. It was a real emergency. I asked the nearest older couple (gotta love the old folks: at least 5 older couples had walked out to the sidewalks in front of their homes -- they didn't go to the scene of the problem, but they were there, observing, commenting, and ready to share with me.) what happened and they pointed and explained. Apparently, a blue Trans Am (yeah, I live in a slightly white trash neighborhood. What?) was driven fast down our sleepy little street by a very young boy, that one, over there [cut to 15-year-old looking kid with a ponytail on his cell phone]. According to the neighborhood watch, he sideswiped a white truck and careened into the house of my acrossed-the-street-neighbor.
It was very exciting stuff for my neighborhood. No one was hurt. I was lucky enough to be having a slow day, so I was back a half a mile instead of on the sidewalk in his path when he careened across my neighbor's lawn.
My morning proceeded in a surreal kind of way after that.
E still hadn't left for work when I returned from my run, which was odd. So, we both went back outside to gawk with the elders at the car, the police, the boy, the firefighters, the lawn, and the perfectly intact across-the-street house.
After we tired of what passes for drama in these parts, I took my shower and loaded my car to 1) go to the post office and mail the invitations and 2) get the bridesmaids' shoes dyed. I gave myself an hour to accomplish both tasks.
I was severely conservative in my estimate. First, there was a line full of crazy people at the post office. There always is. That's one constant. No matter what country, state, or city you are in, there are crazies in line at the post office. I know this. But, I forgot.
Then, when I got to the counter, I found out that my gorgeous invitations are too heavy for the one stamp each that E so carefully affixed last night. So I spent 40 minutes affixing 24 cents of additional postage to each envelope (except the international ones). That's one sticker stamp and one good old fashioned lick-it-and-stick-it stamp per envelope my friends. Fun!
By the time I left the post office, I knew I wasn't going to make it to corporations. At first, I thought of how to get notes, and tried to tell myself that it didn't matter. But then, all of a sudden, I felt like undergrad. I had a flashback to what it felt like to have priorities above school. Not just any priorities, but fun priorities like athletics, sleep, and a social life. And, I smiled. Because I've returned, finally. My wedding is more important to me than today's corporations class.
How decadent!
I just skipped a very expensive, but very boring class to hang out in the post office with the crazies and get those invites in the mail. Then, I went to the cobbler and dealt with the shoes to be dyed. The weather was gorgeous, there was a spring in my step and I found myself walking in the middle of the day during the middle of the week with my sunglasses on -- grinning.
I am a student. I am free to skip class. It's a freedom those in the working world don't have. And today, I took advantage of it -- Finally. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I still haven't read a single page for this semester, but I have managed to locate complete outlines, class notes, and/or lecture slides for each professor/class I'm taking.
I am a 3L, hear me roar.
January 23, 2006
Papercuts on my tongue
I'm a book nerd, so one of the places where I splurged for the wedding was on the invitations. My love of good paper, ink, and fonts, my sister's adroit hand at drawing curves, plus the expertise of the letterpress gurus in berkeley, resulted in invitations that I absolutely adored. When I first got them I kept pulling them out and looking at them -- how gorgeous they were!
Saturday, I tricked my bridesmaids into toiling in my own private invitation addressing sweatshop. It was stressful to spell names correctly, keep the Dr., Ms., Miss, Mrs., Captain, and Mr.'s straight, and don't even get me started on the southerners' wacky naming conventions. Each mistake was one envelope closer to not having enough invitations. In hindsight, the peace of mind would have been worth the price of an extra 20 envelopes.
E and I just finished stamping and sealing the envelopes. And despite how much I'm proud of and really like the invitations, I'm also sick of 'em and I can wait to get them out of my house and into the loving arms of the postal service tomorrow morning.
I'm a book nerd, so one of the places where I splurged for the wedding was on the invitations. My love of good paper, ink, and fonts, my sister's adroit hand at drawing curves, plus the expertise of the letterpress gurus in berkeley, resulted in invitations that I absolutely adored. When I first got them I kept pulling them out and looking at them -- how gorgeous they were!
Saturday, I tricked my bridesmaids into toiling in my own private invitation addressing sweatshop. It was stressful to spell names correctly, keep the Dr., Ms., Miss, Mrs., Captain, and Mr.'s straight, and don't even get me started on the southerners' wacky naming conventions. Each mistake was one envelope closer to not having enough invitations. In hindsight, the peace of mind would have been worth the price of an extra 20 envelopes.
E and I just finished stamping and sealing the envelopes. And despite how much I'm proud of and really like the invitations, I'm also sick of 'em and I can wait to get them out of my house and into the loving arms of the postal service tomorrow morning.
January 20, 2006
Filters off
A combination of life stress, PMS, and hunger combined this afternoon.
While on the phone with CKD, frustrated with how late I was, how I'd missed the turn, and just life in general, I actually said the following, out loud, over the cellular network:
The world's fattest, slowest woman is in front of me on the cross walk. AND SHE WON'T GET OUT OF MY WAY.
Not attractive. Not who I want to be. Not nice. Not something I'd ordinarily say.
But, imminently human. And CKD got a good laugh out of it. May I remember this the next time I'm apalled at someone else's verbal ridiculousness.
A combination of life stress, PMS, and hunger combined this afternoon.
While on the phone with CKD, frustrated with how late I was, how I'd missed the turn, and just life in general, I actually said the following, out loud, over the cellular network:
The world's fattest, slowest woman is in front of me on the cross walk. AND SHE WON'T GET OUT OF MY WAY.
Not attractive. Not who I want to be. Not nice. Not something I'd ordinarily say.
But, imminently human. And CKD got a good laugh out of it. May I remember this the next time I'm apalled at someone else's verbal ridiculousness.
Book Report #1
This year, I'm not even attempting to set a pseudo-numerical goal.
I'm just going to keep track of the books I read for my own sake. So far, 2006's list includes:
1. Perfectly Reasonable Deviations From the Beaten Track, a collection of Richard P. Feynam's personal correspondence. Like all of Feynman's writing, it's funny, intelligent, witty and interesting. More than his other books about his life, this book allows you to see the emotions in his personal relationships. It also tells many great stories about the development of particle physics. Grade: A.
2. Harvests of Joy -- How the Good Life Became Great Business. This book tells the story of the Mondavi family through the eyes of Robert Mondavi, the narrator. According to many, Robert Mondavi is single-handedly responsible for changing Napa valley from a wine-growing region to a center for excellence in viticulture, food, & art. Regardless of whether there were others involved in the evolution, Robert Mondavi was an amazingly driven man, often at the expense of his personal relationships. This book tells those stories, as well as the history of Napa valley as it developed, and how love, maturity, and the Italian-immigrant family ties eventually overcome the fractures between Robert and his family. Grade: B.
3. The Tomato in America -- Early History, Culture, and Cookery by Andrew F. Smith. I bought this book because I realized that the possible audience was so small. I am one of very few people who would consider reading it, so I did my duty. It was educational and interesting, although the writing was more academic than I expected (endnotes at the end of every chapter) and the organization was hard to follow at times. Instead of weaving together stories or presenting a single unified theme, the book is true to the history, which means it's all over the place -- in the South people ate tomatoes long before the people in the North did. Some people did think if you ate tomatoes you'd be poisoned. But many others used them in recipes as early as... Overall, it kind of read like a high school research paper. But I learned about the tomato pill wars & the back contains a recipe for tomato pickles from 1831 which I will attempt to use one day, so I did get my money's worth. Grade: C.
This year, I'm not even attempting to set a pseudo-numerical goal.
I'm just going to keep track of the books I read for my own sake. So far, 2006's list includes:
1. Perfectly Reasonable Deviations From the Beaten Track, a collection of Richard P. Feynam's personal correspondence. Like all of Feynman's writing, it's funny, intelligent, witty and interesting. More than his other books about his life, this book allows you to see the emotions in his personal relationships. It also tells many great stories about the development of particle physics. Grade: A.
2. Harvests of Joy -- How the Good Life Became Great Business. This book tells the story of the Mondavi family through the eyes of Robert Mondavi, the narrator. According to many, Robert Mondavi is single-handedly responsible for changing Napa valley from a wine-growing region to a center for excellence in viticulture, food, & art. Regardless of whether there were others involved in the evolution, Robert Mondavi was an amazingly driven man, often at the expense of his personal relationships. This book tells those stories, as well as the history of Napa valley as it developed, and how love, maturity, and the Italian-immigrant family ties eventually overcome the fractures between Robert and his family. Grade: B.
3. The Tomato in America -- Early History, Culture, and Cookery by Andrew F. Smith. I bought this book because I realized that the possible audience was so small. I am one of very few people who would consider reading it, so I did my duty. It was educational and interesting, although the writing was more academic than I expected (endnotes at the end of every chapter) and the organization was hard to follow at times. Instead of weaving together stories or presenting a single unified theme, the book is true to the history, which means it's all over the place -- in the South people ate tomatoes long before the people in the North did. Some people did think if you ate tomatoes you'd be poisoned. But many others used them in recipes as early as... Overall, it kind of read like a high school research paper. But I learned about the tomato pill wars & the back contains a recipe for tomato pickles from 1831 which I will attempt to use one day, so I did get my money's worth. Grade: C.
January 19, 2006
Slow Start
Today marks the end of my second week of classes. After today, there's only 13 more Thursdays of class before law school is done. I'm in 15 units this semester, which means quite a bit of work.
So far, I:
1. have attended every class (but grumbled along the way)
2. own 3 of the 43 required/suggested books (the bookstore is doing its best to help me in my read when it's convenient for me plan)
3. bought the local copyshop's version of the outline for my corporations class instead of the book
4. ordered a few more books from amazon and barnes and noble, which may or may not arrive next week.
5. have read 0 pages despite a cumulative assigned and covered reading total of around 400 pages for all of my classes.
Only 13 weeks to go? If I keep up this pace, it's going to be a piece of cake!
Today marks the end of my second week of classes. After today, there's only 13 more Thursdays of class before law school is done. I'm in 15 units this semester, which means quite a bit of work.
So far, I:
1. have attended every class (but grumbled along the way)
2. own 3 of the 43 required/suggested books (the bookstore is doing its best to help me in my read when it's convenient for me plan)
3. bought the local copyshop's version of the outline for my corporations class instead of the book
4. ordered a few more books from amazon and barnes and noble, which may or may not arrive next week.
5. have read 0 pages despite a cumulative assigned and covered reading total of around 400 pages for all of my classes.
Only 13 weeks to go? If I keep up this pace, it's going to be a piece of cake!
January 17, 2006
Big Boy Bed
For Christmas, E's parents got us a real bed. Box spring and everything. I think E and I may have been the only ones who weren't appalled that we still slept on a futon.
We'd talked about getting a real bed and agreed that it should happen, but we could never find a free weekend to go mattress shopping. So, we continued to sleep on the futon. E's mother, however, is an excellent shopper and did all of the research to pick out a wonderful bed for us. It arrived yesterday and the delivery men set it up in 5 minutes flat.
Last night was the first night we slept on the new bed. I slept just as well as I normally do. Except, of course, I now have a vague fear that I'm going to roll off the bed and fall to the ground. With the frame, box spring, mattress, box spring cover, mattress cover, and mattress pad, the bed is almost as tall as me. The futon was 1 or 1.5 feet from the ground. Sometimes, growing up is hard to do...
For Christmas, E's parents got us a real bed. Box spring and everything. I think E and I may have been the only ones who weren't appalled that we still slept on a futon.
We'd talked about getting a real bed and agreed that it should happen, but we could never find a free weekend to go mattress shopping. So, we continued to sleep on the futon. E's mother, however, is an excellent shopper and did all of the research to pick out a wonderful bed for us. It arrived yesterday and the delivery men set it up in 5 minutes flat.
Last night was the first night we slept on the new bed. I slept just as well as I normally do. Except, of course, I now have a vague fear that I'm going to roll off the bed and fall to the ground. With the frame, box spring, mattress, box spring cover, mattress cover, and mattress pad, the bed is almost as tall as me. The futon was 1 or 1.5 feet from the ground. Sometimes, growing up is hard to do...
January 15, 2006
Fridge Worthy
I received letter from our local junior college informing me that I am on academic probation and will have to attend a meeting to take more classes in the future.
Including the A that I received in Spanish for last semester (Woo hoo! At least I got one A!), my cumulative GPA is a 1.185.
The best part is, this record will be going to the CA bar committee along with my BS and JD records. [laugh] I love it.
I received letter from our local junior college informing me that I am on academic probation and will have to attend a meeting to take more classes in the future.
Including the A that I received in Spanish for last semester (Woo hoo! At least I got one A!), my cumulative GPA is a 1.185.
The best part is, this record will be going to the CA bar committee along with my BS and JD records. [laugh] I love it.
January 14, 2006
You thought you had a plan?
In La Paz, while E2 and I sipped vacation drinks outside our hotel cafe, we met another American staying at our hotel. He was there, in beautiful La Paz, alone, to wrap up his father's estate. Predictably, he was sad and lonely, but he was also in awe of the beauty of the town and landscape, and clearly, he was enjoying himself on occasion (how could you not smile at being on the beach in 80 degree weather when there were torrential rains at home?).
The guy, M, was from E2's & my alma mater, and lived in the bay area. His father had been sailing for several months and had died of cancer, leaving the boat in La Paz. M was in La Paz to act as his dad's executor and deal with the confusing legal issues (and I thought my US-based wills & trusts exam was hard) all by himself. He didn't speak Spanish, but when we asked if it was difficult, he shrugged and said, "Sometimes it's hard, but I get by."
As he left, I thought to myself, "Yes, that is how it works. Sometimes, it is hard, but we do what we have to do to get by."
We ran into him again on tecolote beach while having a drink and enjoying the view. Turns out he wants to be an IP lawyer, is getting ready to apply to law school, he has a technical degree and some job experience, and was considering taking the patent bar. I gave him every ounce of advice and knowledge I could scrounge up (very few) and volunteered to help him at any time during the process. He seemed to be grateful to have an idea of what he might be pursuing and I felt good to help someone who had so much to deal with at the moment.
Of course, we ran into him again at the the Applebees on the Malecon where all the Americans gathered to watch the Rose Bowl. Later that night, we had a drink with him up on the roof terrace of the hotel and enjoyed one of those only-while-traveling conversations where you bare your soul to strangers. We discussed traveling alone, his father, the boat, and how life jumps up and surprises you no matter how hard you try to be prepared. The next night, he knocked on our door and joined us for dinner with E2's parents. We went out for drinks afterwards and then wished him well on his return the next day.
Certainly, neither E2 nor I planned on spending so much time on our trip with a stranger from our home region. But, that's one of the things I love about traveling, you never know what's going to happen, even if you plan every detail.
Later, on the same trip, I learned that my father has been diagnosed with a fairly serious illness. I volunteered to come home early (not certain if I could do it, but wanting to at least offer to try) but he asked me to stay and enjoy myself.
Immediately, I started changing my plans for the coming months. I resigned from journal. I abandoned my plans to run the marathon. Despite having ran the majority of the miles in preparation, I could not justify one more month of long runs and a trip to Southern california to run a race when I could just run short runs without the training schedule and spend the remaining time with my family. I looked into taking a leave of absence, visiting at a law school closer to my father's home town, and how I could commute from my current law school to my home town on the weekends, if necessary.
Over the next few days, I found it odd that I could sincerely enjoy beautiful baja, the delicious food, and the additional random travel hilarity, while simultaneously wishing I could be with my family, and visiting internet cafes every day to research, email, and discuss health care with my family. But that's one of the beauties of human existence, we can laugh while we cry. And we should if we can, because life is short.
And now, after the first day of classes, I'm back in my hometown. My last semester of law school will be quite different than I planned. I can do what I need to do for the family in a few days each week, and my father would be angry at me (and truly himself) if he felt that I was putting my life on hold for him. So, this semester, I'll be balancing the wedding, law school, and banding together with my family to help my father. I'm going to live in the bay area with E (and try to be a good fiancee) 3-4 days per week and commute to my hometown to be with my family for the other time.
I'm also going to try to take the normal 3L approach. Read? Only if there's time and I feel like it. Class? I'll try to attend so I don't have to read [grin]. I'm not certain when I became such a diligent student -- I skipped plenty of class and winged my way through much of undergrad and I still graduated. Time to get back to my roots!
Much like M enjoying La Paz, I'm going to be able to enjoy some of these changes. Because this happened now, while I'm a student, I can take a leave of absence if need be, and I can take a less serious approach to my studies so that I have the time and ability to go be with my family for half the week. More importantly, I will be able to enjoy excellent meals with my family every weekend this semester. We will be able to gather around the table and enjoy one another as we do on the holidays, but on a much more regular basis. It's something wonderful that we wouldn't have otherwise made the effort to do.
So, my plans for the marathon and journal are out the window. Life had other plans for me. And in hindsight, I needed to meet M in La Paz and see the quiet strength with which he was handling everything with his father. The random travel friend has given me a confidence in my ability to get through this that I couldn't have found otherwise. It's called life. We deal with it as it comes. We take the good surprises with the bad. Because even in the midst of terrible things, there is good to be found.
"Sometimes, it's hard. But I get by."
That's going to be my mantra. Thanks M.
In La Paz, while E2 and I sipped vacation drinks outside our hotel cafe, we met another American staying at our hotel. He was there, in beautiful La Paz, alone, to wrap up his father's estate. Predictably, he was sad and lonely, but he was also in awe of the beauty of the town and landscape, and clearly, he was enjoying himself on occasion (how could you not smile at being on the beach in 80 degree weather when there were torrential rains at home?).
The guy, M, was from E2's & my alma mater, and lived in the bay area. His father had been sailing for several months and had died of cancer, leaving the boat in La Paz. M was in La Paz to act as his dad's executor and deal with the confusing legal issues (and I thought my US-based wills & trusts exam was hard) all by himself. He didn't speak Spanish, but when we asked if it was difficult, he shrugged and said, "Sometimes it's hard, but I get by."
As he left, I thought to myself, "Yes, that is how it works. Sometimes, it is hard, but we do what we have to do to get by."
We ran into him again on tecolote beach while having a drink and enjoying the view. Turns out he wants to be an IP lawyer, is getting ready to apply to law school, he has a technical degree and some job experience, and was considering taking the patent bar. I gave him every ounce of advice and knowledge I could scrounge up (very few) and volunteered to help him at any time during the process. He seemed to be grateful to have an idea of what he might be pursuing and I felt good to help someone who had so much to deal with at the moment.
Of course, we ran into him again at the the Applebees on the Malecon where all the Americans gathered to watch the Rose Bowl. Later that night, we had a drink with him up on the roof terrace of the hotel and enjoyed one of those only-while-traveling conversations where you bare your soul to strangers. We discussed traveling alone, his father, the boat, and how life jumps up and surprises you no matter how hard you try to be prepared. The next night, he knocked on our door and joined us for dinner with E2's parents. We went out for drinks afterwards and then wished him well on his return the next day.
Certainly, neither E2 nor I planned on spending so much time on our trip with a stranger from our home region. But, that's one of the things I love about traveling, you never know what's going to happen, even if you plan every detail.
Later, on the same trip, I learned that my father has been diagnosed with a fairly serious illness. I volunteered to come home early (not certain if I could do it, but wanting to at least offer to try) but he asked me to stay and enjoy myself.
Immediately, I started changing my plans for the coming months. I resigned from journal. I abandoned my plans to run the marathon. Despite having ran the majority of the miles in preparation, I could not justify one more month of long runs and a trip to Southern california to run a race when I could just run short runs without the training schedule and spend the remaining time with my family. I looked into taking a leave of absence, visiting at a law school closer to my father's home town, and how I could commute from my current law school to my home town on the weekends, if necessary.
Over the next few days, I found it odd that I could sincerely enjoy beautiful baja, the delicious food, and the additional random travel hilarity, while simultaneously wishing I could be with my family, and visiting internet cafes every day to research, email, and discuss health care with my family. But that's one of the beauties of human existence, we can laugh while we cry. And we should if we can, because life is short.
And now, after the first day of classes, I'm back in my hometown. My last semester of law school will be quite different than I planned. I can do what I need to do for the family in a few days each week, and my father would be angry at me (and truly himself) if he felt that I was putting my life on hold for him. So, this semester, I'll be balancing the wedding, law school, and banding together with my family to help my father. I'm going to live in the bay area with E (and try to be a good fiancee) 3-4 days per week and commute to my hometown to be with my family for the other time.
I'm also going to try to take the normal 3L approach. Read? Only if there's time and I feel like it. Class? I'll try to attend so I don't have to read [grin]. I'm not certain when I became such a diligent student -- I skipped plenty of class and winged my way through much of undergrad and I still graduated. Time to get back to my roots!
Much like M enjoying La Paz, I'm going to be able to enjoy some of these changes. Because this happened now, while I'm a student, I can take a leave of absence if need be, and I can take a less serious approach to my studies so that I have the time and ability to go be with my family for half the week. More importantly, I will be able to enjoy excellent meals with my family every weekend this semester. We will be able to gather around the table and enjoy one another as we do on the holidays, but on a much more regular basis. It's something wonderful that we wouldn't have otherwise made the effort to do.
So, my plans for the marathon and journal are out the window. Life had other plans for me. And in hindsight, I needed to meet M in La Paz and see the quiet strength with which he was handling everything with his father. The random travel friend has given me a confidence in my ability to get through this that I couldn't have found otherwise. It's called life. We deal with it as it comes. We take the good surprises with the bad. Because even in the midst of terrible things, there is good to be found.
"Sometimes, it's hard. But I get by."
That's going to be my mantra. Thanks M.
January 11, 2006
Baja Lessons
If you need to make a left hand turn, sometimes, you just stay to the left and wait for a break, like a reasonable drive. But, at other times, you will need to take the exit to the far right lanes, which are separated from the rest of the camino by dirt, cement, or sometimes, nothing. From there, despite what looks like broken traffic lights, you should stop (no red light, just stop anyways) in the left-most right lane and wait for the green arrow light. When it comes, you will cross all lanes of straight traffic to make a left hand turn (or U-turn).
If you are waiting for someone to meet you at the airport, call them instead of waiting patiently 'til dark. They may still be at home because their flight was canceled due to heavy California rains and flooding. [note: even if your cell phone works in baja, you may not get the voicemail icon]
Losec is generic for prilosec. Immodium is immodium. Both are available along with several other options at every pharmacy. If you are traveling in a group, someone will need this information, guaranteed.
The most unique product I consumed in Baja was Damiana liquor. I only had it in a few margaritas, but it was a hit. At one point on the trip I found myself in a hot tub at a villa surrounded by strangers who were passing a bottle after a night of partying and proclaiming that it made you feel warm, wholesome, happy, and content. In the interests of living to tell the story, I opted to sit in the hot tub, and enjoy the rest of the evening without partaking of the pregnant lady's syrup of happiness and fertility. Good stuff in a margarita, though, if you get the chance.
The desert in Baja has much more vegetation that I expected. In fact, it's very much alive and teeming with life. E2, E2's parents & I drove the eastern route to La Paz from San Jose del Cabo, and then returned on the western route through Todos Santos. Both La Paz and Todos Santos are lovely little towns with quite a bit of Mexican culture. Cabo is, well, it's Cabo -- I consider it the Baja Vegas in many ways. Anyways, the Baja dessert -- it was very different in appearance from the barren deserts between Alexandria and Siwa in Egypt. I think I'd forgotten that the term desert can mean things as varied as the term forest.
I'd forgotten many things: how rich we are in this country and how our opportunities are something to be thankful for, how much I want to speak Spanish fluently, how for every "ugly american" there is at least one person from some part of America with a story you're glad to learn and generosity that makes you proud to be their countrymen, how geography is easiest learned by driving, how the sun looks when it rises over the ocean (and when it sets), how important it is to remember to sleep at least one day a year away, and how the true calamities and stresses of life are not kept from us by money. We are all human, we all die, we all have families (at one point), we all get sick, we all know desire in at least one of its forms, and we are all much more alike than we think when we read/watch/hear the news. Also, we can and should slow down, at least every once in a while.
That being said, it's good to be home. I'm much more appreciative of things like left hand turn lanes, toilet seat covers, toilet paper that doesn't feel like sand paper, drinkable tapwater, fresh vegetables and wine (although to be fair, baja does have it's own offereings, and I did try some of Ensenada's offerings -- a Syrah made by a barbeque joint in La Paz with mounted pigs displaying oversized human male genetalia. The wine was decent though. A bit overpriced for here, but fine for baja, where there isn't much of a wine market.)
If you need to make a left hand turn, sometimes, you just stay to the left and wait for a break, like a reasonable drive. But, at other times, you will need to take the exit to the far right lanes, which are separated from the rest of the camino by dirt, cement, or sometimes, nothing. From there, despite what looks like broken traffic lights, you should stop (no red light, just stop anyways) in the left-most right lane and wait for the green arrow light. When it comes, you will cross all lanes of straight traffic to make a left hand turn (or U-turn).
If you are waiting for someone to meet you at the airport, call them instead of waiting patiently 'til dark. They may still be at home because their flight was canceled due to heavy California rains and flooding. [note: even if your cell phone works in baja, you may not get the voicemail icon]
Losec is generic for prilosec. Immodium is immodium. Both are available along with several other options at every pharmacy. If you are traveling in a group, someone will need this information, guaranteed.
The most unique product I consumed in Baja was Damiana liquor. I only had it in a few margaritas, but it was a hit. At one point on the trip I found myself in a hot tub at a villa surrounded by strangers who were passing a bottle after a night of partying and proclaiming that it made you feel warm, wholesome, happy, and content. In the interests of living to tell the story, I opted to sit in the hot tub, and enjoy the rest of the evening without partaking of the pregnant lady's syrup of happiness and fertility. Good stuff in a margarita, though, if you get the chance.
The desert in Baja has much more vegetation that I expected. In fact, it's very much alive and teeming with life. E2, E2's parents & I drove the eastern route to La Paz from San Jose del Cabo, and then returned on the western route through Todos Santos. Both La Paz and Todos Santos are lovely little towns with quite a bit of Mexican culture. Cabo is, well, it's Cabo -- I consider it the Baja Vegas in many ways. Anyways, the Baja dessert -- it was very different in appearance from the barren deserts between Alexandria and Siwa in Egypt. I think I'd forgotten that the term desert can mean things as varied as the term forest.
I'd forgotten many things: how rich we are in this country and how our opportunities are something to be thankful for, how much I want to speak Spanish fluently, how for every "ugly american" there is at least one person from some part of America with a story you're glad to learn and generosity that makes you proud to be their countrymen, how geography is easiest learned by driving, how the sun looks when it rises over the ocean (and when it sets), how important it is to remember to sleep at least one day a year away, and how the true calamities and stresses of life are not kept from us by money. We are all human, we all die, we all have families (at one point), we all get sick, we all know desire in at least one of its forms, and we are all much more alike than we think when we read/watch/hear the news. Also, we can and should slow down, at least every once in a while.
That being said, it's good to be home. I'm much more appreciative of things like left hand turn lanes, toilet seat covers, toilet paper that doesn't feel like sand paper, drinkable tapwater, fresh vegetables and wine (although to be fair, baja does have it's own offereings, and I did try some of Ensenada's offerings -- a Syrah made by a barbeque joint in La Paz with mounted pigs displaying oversized human male genetalia. The wine was decent though. A bit overpriced for here, but fine for baja, where there isn't much of a wine market.)
January 1, 2006
Adieu
I woke this morning from a dream where I was arguing with my Wills & Trusts professor over how I didn't deserve an F. She claimed I used language that was too flowery. Wierd way to start the year...
Today, I realized there are 68 days 'til the wedding.
So, like the bride-to-be that I am, I'm going tofreak out go on vacation. That's right, I'm off to La Paz (Mexico, not Bolivia) 'til school starts.
Hasta Luego!
I woke this morning from a dream where I was arguing with my Wills & Trusts professor over how I didn't deserve an F. She claimed I used language that was too flowery. Wierd way to start the year...
Today, I realized there are 68 days 'til the wedding.
So, like the bride-to-be that I am, I'm going to
Hasta Luego!
2005 Recap
E and I rang in 2005 thousands of miles from home, in Australia. A few days later, on Bondi Beach, E asked me to marry him and I said yes.
After we returned, I worked as an extern for a judge and took one 2-unit class. It was a blissfully relaxing semester, filled with many weekend trips, as well as training for and running my first half marathon. A month later, I did my second one.
So, 2005 will go down as the year I was first a real runner. After the first two races, I put together a very ambitious race schedule. Life got in the way a few times (weather, sick grandfather, required trip with summer law firm, etc.) but for the most part, I ran the races I'd planned to run. My running log totals out at 1,192 miles for the year, slightly over double last year's 583 miles. That's about 22 miles a week, on average. (I'd love to maintain that level of running for 2006, but I'm guessing things like the wedding, the bar, the bar trip, and working as a lawyer may get in the way.)
After a relaxing Spring (where the only tasks requiring discipline outside of work were finishing my journal note and planning the wedding), we started our Summer early with a trip to Puerto Rico. Upon our return, I spent a gluttonous 16 weeks (and 7 pounds--almost 1/2 a pound a week!) as a summer associate, first in transactional IP work, and later in litigation. Summer was ridiculously busy and set the pace for the rest of the year.
Fall semester was rough. The first month, I attended as much of my 16 units of classes as possible while juggling being a bridesmaid in my college roommate's wedding, a trip to Washington DC to accept an award for my journal note, a trip to the South to visit E's family, and my last trip to my hometown before Christmas. 16 units, wedding planning, several weddings, trips, and deciding where to work after law school made the semester fly by. Unfortunately, that level of activity translated into a lack of preparedness which combined with family drama for a perfect storm during finals.
I'd complain, but my December was nothing compared to my father's. For him, the month began with his father being placed on Hospice. Several days later, his father passed away. He went to the ranch, joined the family in celebrating his father's life and then stayed behind to pack up the ranch house and deal with my papa's belongings. Upon his return home, my father checked himself into the hospital with severe abdominal pain, only to be told that he had several lumps and needed biopsies. After his release, his oncologist fell ill and he was forced to wait patiently for the results. While waiting, his dog fell ill and unless she gets better by monday, he will have to put her down.
My last conversation with my father in 2005 ended with him saying, "I can't wait for this year to be over." While the year as a whole was fun and wonderful, I agreed with him about much of December. For some reason, I get the feeling that many people felt that way about the end of this year. So we all can now celebrate. We made it. (Unfortunately, I only managed to read 18 books on my approximately 25 book challenge, but... close enough. Given all the other stuff, I'm calling it a victory.)
Unlike last year, when we were thousands of miles from everyone we knew, E and I began 2006 in our own home with good friends, enjoying good food (I finally have time to cook again!), and good conversation. I'm excited for what this year has in store for us -- it should be just as crazy as 2005, if not more.
Happy New Year!
E and I rang in 2005 thousands of miles from home, in Australia. A few days later, on Bondi Beach, E asked me to marry him and I said yes.
After we returned, I worked as an extern for a judge and took one 2-unit class. It was a blissfully relaxing semester, filled with many weekend trips, as well as training for and running my first half marathon. A month later, I did my second one.
So, 2005 will go down as the year I was first a real runner. After the first two races, I put together a very ambitious race schedule. Life got in the way a few times (weather, sick grandfather, required trip with summer law firm, etc.) but for the most part, I ran the races I'd planned to run. My running log totals out at 1,192 miles for the year, slightly over double last year's 583 miles. That's about 22 miles a week, on average. (I'd love to maintain that level of running for 2006, but I'm guessing things like the wedding, the bar, the bar trip, and working as a lawyer may get in the way.)
After a relaxing Spring (where the only tasks requiring discipline outside of work were finishing my journal note and planning the wedding), we started our Summer early with a trip to Puerto Rico. Upon our return, I spent a gluttonous 16 weeks (and 7 pounds--almost 1/2 a pound a week!) as a summer associate, first in transactional IP work, and later in litigation. Summer was ridiculously busy and set the pace for the rest of the year.
Fall semester was rough. The first month, I attended as much of my 16 units of classes as possible while juggling being a bridesmaid in my college roommate's wedding, a trip to Washington DC to accept an award for my journal note, a trip to the South to visit E's family, and my last trip to my hometown before Christmas. 16 units, wedding planning, several weddings, trips, and deciding where to work after law school made the semester fly by. Unfortunately, that level of activity translated into a lack of preparedness which combined with family drama for a perfect storm during finals.
I'd complain, but my December was nothing compared to my father's. For him, the month began with his father being placed on Hospice. Several days later, his father passed away. He went to the ranch, joined the family in celebrating his father's life and then stayed behind to pack up the ranch house and deal with my papa's belongings. Upon his return home, my father checked himself into the hospital with severe abdominal pain, only to be told that he had several lumps and needed biopsies. After his release, his oncologist fell ill and he was forced to wait patiently for the results. While waiting, his dog fell ill and unless she gets better by monday, he will have to put her down.
My last conversation with my father in 2005 ended with him saying, "I can't wait for this year to be over." While the year as a whole was fun and wonderful, I agreed with him about much of December. For some reason, I get the feeling that many people felt that way about the end of this year. So we all can now celebrate. We made it. (Unfortunately, I only managed to read 18 books on my approximately 25 book challenge, but... close enough. Given all the other stuff, I'm calling it a victory.)
Unlike last year, when we were thousands of miles from everyone we knew, E and I began 2006 in our own home with good friends, enjoying good food (I finally have time to cook again!), and good conversation. I'm excited for what this year has in store for us -- it should be just as crazy as 2005, if not more.
Happy New Year!
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