Kleng Meedercher, Risen Iddien

Hello.

2011-03-09T10:51:00.003-06:00

Hello.

2011-03-09T10:51:00.001-06:00

Washington Post Horoscopes

2008-06-12T09:23:00.002-05:00

One of my friends told me a couple of weeks ago that she checks her horoscope in the Washington Post every day. This is not a superstitious girl, but she insists that they get it right every time. I am a big fan of horoscopes. Whats not to like? They are always about me (something I love); they get me to think about me (something I usually love) and they usually make me think that something awesome is bound to happen to me (who doesn't love that?). My horoscope shows up everyday on my home page. (I haven't become a total flake, I also have my email, the weather, a map of current events, cool photos of cool places to visit, and a news feed from the Economist.) Since I heard about the Washington Post horoscopes, I have been looking at those on a daily basis as well. I have to say, my friends seems to be on to something. Those suckers are eerily on target! Not only do they make statements relevant to my life, they say accurate things about my personality. And, I am not sure if any of these things would apply to every other person in the world! Okay. Here is my horoscope, a la the Washington Post, for today:

Aquarius January 20 - February 18: For Thursday, June 12 -You should be bold to the point of obnoxiousness today -- no one is going to mind. In fact, certain people have been waiting for you to speak up and show a bit of your true self. You have been hiding a very bright light deep inside of you, and you need to let it shine now. Why let yourself get all hung up on personal issues or worry that someone will not like you? You can't be everyone's friend -- you can only be you, and let the chips fall where they may.

See? Right now I am debating whether or not I should start harassing a potential employer that I REALLY would like to hear from. I am ALSO debating whether or not I should harass my boss about giving me some more help on the job front. AND, I have a huge problem contacting people when I need to use them as references or to network...in fact I have been putting contacting a family friend who seemed to want to help me out for months.

See. The Washintong Post is the new Nostradamus.

I am big, scary and don't know how to not say no...

2008-03-23T02:55:00.003-05:00

...and feel like I have horrified an entire island nation. Is it my charmingly quirky attitude? The huge amounts I can consume during continental breakfast? Or, is it my recurring attempt to impose my ca-ar-do-o on various shopkeepers? Am going to experiment with all of these characteristics, and perhaps throw in some random cabbie abuse, and report back to this blog.

More to come.

PS: My sister is a trooper. Just thought that the world should know that.

Anonymous Comments/Unmoderated Comments Part II

2008-03-13T09:39:00.002-05:00

Ahhahaha....this issue seems to be of the moment. (Article from Above the Law below)

SHOULD ANONYMOUS COMMENTING BE A CRIME???
Forget about prostitution -- which, it appears, most of you support legalizing.
What about the legality of anonymous commenting on the internet?
This story is from last week, but please indulge us -- we're taking it somewhere. From WTVQ:

Kentucky Representative Tim Couch filed a bill this week to make anonymous
posting online illegal. The bill would require anyone who contributes to a
website to register their real name, address and e-mail address with that site.
Their full name would be used anytime a comment is posted.

If the bill becomes law, the website operator would have to pay if someone was
allowed to post anonymously on their site. The fine would be five-hundred dollars
($500) for a first offense and one-thousand dollars ($1,000) for each offense
after that.

While we understand the problems and headaches of anonymous commenting, which we deal with on a daily basis, this proposal strikes us as a bit draconian. If enacted, it would dramatically cut down on free speech on the web. If we faced such potential liability for hosting anonymous commenters, we'd probably just kill comments altogether.
Not surprisingly, given our line of work, we aren't super-keen on the Kentucky proposal. Others disagree. When we spoke at Stanford Law School on Monday, during the question-and-answer session, several students advocated requiring all commenters to disclose their true identities, which would appear along with each comment.
Update: Professor Eugene Volokh analyzes the proposal, and explains why it would be unconstitutional, over here.
What do you think? Please take our poll. We're redesigning ATL later this year, and the redesign process may include some changes to the commenting system. We'd like to take the readership pulse on this (but reserve the right to settle on a comments system different from what prevails in the poll).

An explanation of the options:

1. No registration required: The status quo here at ATL.

2. Registration / login required: You'd register with your name and email address, pick a unique handle or moniker (e.g., "Loyola 2L"), and log in under that handle each time you'd want to comment. This is the system used, for example, at Gawker Media blogs like Wonkette (where we previously blogged).

3. Registration / login permitted, but not required (can comment as 'guest'): Self-explanatory; a modified option #2. If you want credit for your witty comment, you can log in, and your handle would appear with your comment. But if you don't want credit, you wouldn't have to log in, and could just comment as "guest." This is the system used at our Wall Street sibling site, Dealbreaker.

4. Advance approval required for comments: A comment couldn't go up on the site until it gets the editorial greenlight from us. Given the sheer volume of comments on ATL, we doubt we'd adopt this -- we can't even read all the comments as it is. But it is the approach used by our style-obsessed little sibling, Fashionista.

5. No reader comments: Some might say that a blog without comments is like judging without a robe, or working Biglaw without a bonus. What's the point?

We doubt we'd go down the comment-less path at ATL, since the comments here are, taken as a whole, insightful and/or funny enough to justify the headaches they cause. But a number of prominent blogs, such as Instapundit (Glenn Reynolds) and The Daily Dish (Andrew Sullivan), don't have comments. So we'll include it as an option.

Okay, enough discussion; please cast your vote. The poll, we should point out, is for informational purposes only. We will consider, but not be bound by, the poll's outcome. Thanks.

Anonymous Comments/Unmoderated Comments

2008-03-12T16:01:00.001-05:00

Suck because they result in spam comments. I hate spam and spam comments. If you want to keep your identity a secret do something silly like create a new profile that you will only use to comment on my blog.

Pushy pushy.

Easter Candy Corn v. Halloween Candy Corn

2008-03-11T12:55:00.002-05:00

In my mind, real candy corn has a yellow tip, white center, and orange bottom. It is delicious and typically eaten around the harvest. Probably to simulate eating actual corn and in preparation for the day when we are all machines and able to subsist on nothing but candy. That will be great, but is probably a long way off. (Case in point, yesterday I ate nothing but a very large bag of gummy candy from the Sweet Shop followed by salty licorice my dad had procured from Schipol for me. It was a bad idea...although quite delicious.)

Traditional candy corn has a cousin that appears around springtime. I believe it is called "bunny corn." "Bunny corn" has a pastel blue tip, white center and pastel pink bottom. It resembles neither corn nor a bunny, yet is called "bunny corn." Why? The image the name bunny corn draws to mind is not an attractive one. Think about it. Bunny corn. What relation do bunnies have to corn? None, unless it's a digestive one, which is not evocative of a delicious candy treat. Even that is a stretch. Bunnies don't eat corn. They eat carrots and pellets and alfalfa. Also, there is no corn in the early spring when these candies appear! The harvest was months ago and the ground hasn't thawed enough for the spring planting to begin. Everthing about the name bunny corn is stupid. It should be called "bunny treats." In fact, that is a wonderful idea. Maybe this will be my one small mark on the fate of humankind.

That being said, I am firmly convinced that the misnamed "bunny corn" is, if possible, even more delicious than traditional candy corn. This may sound crazy, but there is a subtle, but important difference between the two corns. My college roommate was the first to identify it during finals of our senior year and since then I wait in breathless anticipation for this, the most delicious corn, to make its appearance on Walgreen's shelves. It's the pastel highlight of an otherwise gray and demoralizing month.

How much Coke Zero is too much?

2008-02-27T10:50:00.002-06:00

I don't know, but I know that a twelve pack may not always be the answer. My coworker and I have an agreement to keep our fridge fully stocked at all times. I think that I am getting the better bargain...

My most recent in office snack is pistachios. Yum - love love. Although it was made clear this morning that the cleaning staff is not as enthusiastic about this new player in E's drawer o' food. For the past two years, my recycling and garbage have been under my desk. I am pretty sure that the only recycling bins and wastebaskets in the court house are located under desks. Until this morning. My trash receptacles are now in the middle of the office.

I am guessing that not everyone likes a fine layer of pistachio shells to coat the floor. The upside is that without the attendant crunching I will be able to sneak in and out of my chair much more easily.

career v. job

2008-02-11T20:33:00.000-06:00

So I am in the midst/about to embark on my quest to obtain a new job. It is going to be terrible and I will probably be a terrible person to be around throughout most of it.

This is my problem, I don't really know if I am looking for a career or a job, ie do I want a temporary or a permenant position? How long will I be there? Is this going to be my identity or a way I make money? Will I love it or will I put up with it?

It's very confusing and leaves me with almost nothing to say.

re:everyone should see this

2007-12-12T09:06:00.000-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su68w4QZinM

My co-clerk and I watched this together. I think his reaction is just the sort of thing that deserves to be in print: "it's our fault you know, dropping a nuclear bomb on them like that. Addled their brains, but then again they brought it, we just ended it."

Not really sure if I should even offer a response, but here goes --

I'll raise your creepy exercise girls with this personified liver:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=natcuMuw7Uk

or if you prefer the classics, Victor Borge is always nice:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgQ9qosWtmY

or perhaps this, for a more accurate view of what can be expected from large & frightening gaijin men:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AE847UXu3Q

Transpacific pain and my new life as a morning person

2007-12-10T11:52:00.000-06:00

I left Hong Kong at 11:40 on Saturday morning - I arrived in Chicago at 11:49. Somehow in those nine minutes I experienced the most painful fifteen hours of my life.

Donna and I celebrated our last day in Hong Kong by indulging in two activities which I usually end up regretting for one reason or another: shopping and drinking (not at the same time - that is the worst combination and once resulted in the purchase of a gucci bag in lieu of non-convent food for a month). Hong Kong has amazing shopping, and not just the cheapo-markety-designer rip off kind one always hears about. The malls...oh the malls...they go on forever. There was a mall attached to our hotel. It contained two eight story express elevators. It was that tall. Sister ... have you visited "Sogo" the wonderful Japanese paradise that I encountered? This place was ten stories of Saks, Macy, Best Buy and Whole Foods all rolled into one. Awesome and regretful as only the best things can be.

Hong Kong also has some fabulous nightlife - if for no other reason than the amazing people watching. It occurs (primarily, I think) on a strip called "Lan Kwai Fong." Oh the people watching...oh the 80/20 male female ratio...oh the terrifyingly incomprehensible versions of english which abound...oh the alarming number of prostitutes... oh the decision that my future husband will never go to hong kong without me...

Oh the (six) lychee martinis (gin of course) ... oh how the word lychee is still making me feel slightly ill. Sometimes I forget that drinks are never free, even if one does not actually pay for them. The flight home was not fun.

The end.

special snack surprise is not delicious

2007-12-02T17:28:00.000-06:00

I love Hong Kong. This feeling has slowly evolved from Friday, when I truly did not love anything about it. My antipathy towards Hong Kong began on Friday when the hotel shuttle left the airport without us, and no one let us know that it was here, had left, or that it was probably silly for us to continue to stand by the door with all our bags. The hotel staff thought it was much more helpful to stand and laugh at us. I was very angry, and stared angrily at anyone who I suspected was employed by either Langham Place or Chep Lok airport.

Hong Kong almost redeemed itself in my eyes when we arrived at a restaurant overlooking the harbour. The bartender made me a delicious and potent rose pepper gimlet (gin). I was happy.

This happiness lasted only a short time, as I soon realized that I was not going to be a huge fan of cantonese cuisine. There is no reason to eat an egg which has been aged for 100 years, or which is old enough that the proprietor can pretend it has been. Similarly, I see no benefit in eating a birds nest, a shark fin or any sort of dish that bills itself as containing a fetus. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me knows that I get cranky when I am presented with a menu devoid of anything I will enjoy. My happiness further decreased when three cabs refused to take us to our hotel for no discernable reason.

Luckily, Hong Kong redeemed itself the next day and is no longer the subject of my ire. More on that later.

No Manatees are not slimy.

2007-11-27T17:36:00.000-06:00

They have skin like the bottom of Dad's feet. And it is hard to tell if something is slimy if you are already under water!

Do you enjoy torturing your hair?

2007-11-23T22:36:00.001-06:00

This is my favorite commercial. And, just to be clear, no I do not enjoy torturing my hair. I feel the same towards my blowdryer as I do towards my tweezers: compulsive and defeated.

There isnt a whole lot for me to blog about. My life has not been super exciting lately, which leaves me with very little to say. I am becoming the crossword queen and have these dreams that I confuse with either Gilmore Girls, House or Heroes. Some would say that I need to snap out of it. I, on the other hand, am enjoying being a crazy old lady at the age of twenty-six.

Right now I am in Florida. It's cold. On the upside, today I swam with the manatees in Crystal River. It was interesting ... I remember being more excited at the prospect when I was six and initially got the idea ... but the experience only lost some of the luster after twenty years. Or so I am hoping, otherwise I may be forced to make a maudlin commentary on life and aging.

On that uplifting note...

Higher Law

2007-09-18T12:34:00.000-05:00

"This agreement is governed solely and exclusively by the principles written in the Holy Bible. All disputes must be mediated by a mediator nominated by the Institute of Christian Conciliation under the Rules of Procedure for Christian Conciliation."
--(courtesy of abovethelaw.com)

I just finished Gods Harvard, about Patrick Henry University. It is an engaging book and I would recommend it to anyone who is interested/knows almost nothing about the (very) conservative politicians who have been in power for the past six or so years. It might be a little dated (already, it was published in 2007), but still interesting.

To be honest, I can't tell if it is biased or not because I don't have any other basis of knowledge on that particular political group. Also, I can't tell if the author's tone is skeptical or if it is just impossible for me to process an account of attempts to scientifically prove creationism with a completely open mind.

The book mentioned (interestingly) that the CIA is comprised in large part of conservative Christians. I'm not sure if this is true, I had never heard it before, but I guess it makes sense considering Virginia is part of the Bible Belt (I think).

The book also mentioned the director of Hell Boy and the Exorcism of Emily Rose. I really enjoyed the latter movie (didn't see the first). Well, actually, I didn't enjoy it so much as think that it was well done (between moments of terror) while I was watching it. The perspective on the role conservatives are beginning to play in Hollywood was interesting. It discussed the preference of conservatives have for violence over sex, which doesnt seem to be a judgment of any sort considering all of the incredibly violent movies produced by non-christians.

If anyone is interested in this topic, I would suggest God's Harvard.

Shizzle

2007-09-10T13:06:00.000-05:00

I love npr. A while ago there was a piece about Gelett Burgess, who coined the term "blurb." He also wrote a story about the queen "isyl" (which I translated as "izzle" in my still hung-over state). Even though I was wrong, I really enjoyed thinking that Steve Innskeep was discussing the origins of the suffix "izzle." Anyone who can David Petraeus and izzle in back to back segments is just ADD enough to hold my attention.

Weekend

2007-08-06T10:52:00.000-05:00

I had a good weekend; which is good because I kind of feel like it was a microcosm of my life (right now), in that it encompassed most of what I have been thinking baout lately. Here is a brief recap:

Friday:
I left work late, which has been happening fairly regularly since my coworker left. To be honest, I don't mind the extra work because I really like my job. The problem is that I have extreme separation anxiety issues and miss my co worker.
After work I walked to the Apple store. I hate the apple store - it is on michigan ave., crowded with tourists and staffed by condescending and unhelpful nerds. I had made an appointment online to have my Ipod replaced, because the headphones had broken into the device, after having gone to the store before and having been told to come back in two hours. The fellow behind the counter gave me a hard time because the headphones were wound around the Ipod. I was crabby, there was a tussle, I got a new Ipod.
While walking home I woke middle sis up in Japan. She is in Kagoshima, living in a jungle up a mountain. I am embarrassed at how jealous I am. I have to change the subject.
Eventually, I went to Kitschn in River North. It was good - I had wanted to go there for a while (since seeing Rachel Ray go there, which was three years ago). I ordered pickily and had a glass of wine. After dinner I saw Bourne Ultimatum. I love the Bourne movies. Yes, they are silly and unbelievable, but I don't care. It totally could happen. When I got home I watched Lost on my Itunes until I fell asleep.

Saturday:
Woke up a 7am and took the red line to Evanston. Visited grandpa in the hospital. Sad. Tension with the mom communicated through babysis via text. Went to see Highschool Musical. Felt very, very old. Thought it was funny. Took mom and babysis to raw vegan gourmet restaurant. Fascinated yet disgusted. Ate too much. Went home by 7pm. Made plans to go out; cancelled plans to go out. Watched lost while I cleaned my bathroom. Fell asleep at 1130.

Sunday:
Fourteen hours later I woke up and realized I had missed my chance to go to the gym. Took red line to evanston. Visited grandpa in hospital. Talked about article in Financial Times. Less sad. No tension with mom - good mood. Left late to go meet friends for cubs game. Took red line to belmont, walked too far in the heat. Stopped at gap to buy better bra & clean shirt. Went to game. Destroyed shirt. Ate a lemon slushy and ogled the guys two rows in front of us (without actually speaking to them, of course). Finished the game - record for Glavine (?). Walked home with ice cream. Fell asleep while watching lost.

It's possible that I am in a rut.

Internal Monologue

2007-07-27T09:19:00.000-05:00

My last post got very off subject. It is a problem of mine, and may have to do with the fact that I have, what I like to call, a very rich inner life. I had originally wanted to discuss my newly discovered obsession with the series Heroes. However, since that post was written about a month ago, it's no longer newly discovered and I forgot a lot of what I was going to say. And I'm bored of it. I tried to watch it a couple of days ago, and it just didn't evoke the same kind of, well, obsession (although it may have been that I was just really not in the mood). So, I just really don't feel like writing about Heroes, except to say that I think I would REALLY be happy to have a super power (and as a young/not so young child truly believed that I could do magic, which I guess is a sort of super power).

The thing about shows like Heroes (and books like Harry Potter) is that it kind of exposes the very real likelihood that other people (adults) have internal monologues that might out debate my own. It's just a nice thing to know.

My Hero

2007-07-09T15:50:00.000-05:00

I have been very bored recently. A certain friend, who shall remain nameless but is listed on the left side of my blog and has blond hair and when to highschool with me, and whose name starts with a J and ends with a Y, complained about my lack of posting. I thought about why I hadnt posted in such a long time. Then I realized that it was because I had been driven to the point where I was to bored to actually do anything. I read somewhere that a predisposition to being bored is a huge personality flaw that signals below average intelligence...which means that I probably should try not to whine about being bored quite as much as I do.

Two weeks ago I was reminded of why I went to college, and more importantly, law school: working at a job without any actual substantive duties is mindnumbing and, shockingly depressing.* My judge was out of the country, my co-clerk had the week off and I was alone. With nothing to do but answer the phone. My solution to this problem, because one can only do so much online shopping on a law clerk's salary, was to watch TV.

I may have mentioned this before on this blog, but I do not have a TV in my apartment, which means no cable in my apartment. (It's in an airplane hanger 50 miles north of me). I also do not have internet, but my neightbors are kind enough to share with me sometimes, which basically means that my apartment is the residential equivalent of a D'Lorien, allowing me to travel from the year 1940 to 2007. It's awesome.

People ask me why I don't have a TV. It's not that I have any objections to it, or don't like it. In fact, I LOVE TV. Left to my own devices (ie when I go to my parents house), I can watch it for days on end. Seriously. I have watched entire series in one sitting (the OC incident of '06 comes to mind). Therein lies one of the reasons for its notable absence in my apartment. Like an wino who cannot enter an Italian restaurant, or a chocoholic who never buys chocolate, it's really better that I don't leave myself vulnerable to the temptation of eschewing real life for the trials and tribulations of family life as portrayed on Wife Swap.

Another reason is the cost. As I mentioned, a law clerk salary is nothing like a lawyer salary. Particularly when said law clerk's pay check comes from the same budget that is currently cutting services which she previously thought were essential to the operation of a healthy community (ie hospitals, ambulances, janitorial staffing). As much as I love it, TV cannot compare to the trinity of food, shelter and clothing.

The real reason for my failure to install a TV and internet to my apartment lurks in the darkest corner of my heart. It is actually painful (-ly embarrassing) to admit. I think the reason I don't have these services is that I am too lazy to call Comcast and have them installed. It actually gives me a headache. I am too lazy to acquire the tools which are necessary to be truly lazy. Or have I evolved to the point where I no longer require such tools?

This is probably another one of those things I should not admit.

*I may need to be reminded that law is not one of these jobs if/when I am doing document review in a year or so.

Struggles

2007-05-11T15:51:00.000-05:00

This past Tuesday was not a good day for me. "Not good" in the sense of if Tuesday was an episode of Survivor (which I don't watch), I would have been kicked off the island - the island of Tuesday. And I would have been glad. I don't have any excuse for why I failed at living this past Tuesday, it was just one of those days where everything I did turned out slightly retarded.

It started when I woke up at 7:15, an hour later than my snooze button compulsion even allows for. I left five minutes after I should have been at work. Then, I decided to walk to the Brown line. I have never walked to the Brown line in order to get to work in my life. Why did I decide to do this? Clearly I am insane. Particularly since the Brown line is under construction and does not stop at my station. Fabulous.

So, seeing that the brown line was inaccessible, I walked about four blocks to clark to wait for the bus I would normally take. It came, I didnt get on because I decided it would be smarter to get a cab. (I eventually got to work, and beginning what would be four days of consecutive phone calls to my very tolerant co-worker, explaining that I would be late).

Work was fine. "Fine" in that I finished my prep for an upcoming trial - which settled not five minutes after I finished. Fine. I did absolutely nothing else for the rest of the day.

On the bus to Spanish I had the genuis idea to clean out both my work bag and my gym bag. I thought, "Hey, I have this seat to myself and I have ten minutes. Time to dump out all of my wordly possessions!" Unfortunately I was distracted by my Mom on the phone half through my endeavour. (Halfway in that my bags were cleaned out, but my stuff was all over the seats.) I never did organize my bags, in that I had to cram everything back into them as I flung myself onto the sidewalk two stops past Ontario.

My sister called right after I got off the phone with my mom. We fought over the strengths and weaknesses of living in streeterville. Part of me felt like giving in, but I have a little trouble with that in cases where 1) the argument is over opinion; 2) it feels like there is some kind of underlying power struggle; and 3) I am clearly better informed. (Streeterville? Seriously?) Thirty minutes later (thirty minutes of snarking later) I realized I was late for spanish. I hung up. She was mad. I ran to the elevator.

Twenty-nine floors later: Spanish class was gone. The Instituto Cervantes? Nothing but a dark hallway and empty boxes. So I went into one of my bags for my IPOD. Not there. Checked other bag. Not there. Feeling a little dead inside, I went back to the lobby of the Hancock Center, all the while digging through my things for my IPOD. Definitely not there.

I began to freak out just a little. Retreating to a wall, I sat on the floor and began to empty out both of my bags. I became that midgety girl wearing a business suit and trench, but no shoes (I had taken them off when I sat down) with two large, but empty bags, and lots of junk (ie: pencils, magazines, files, sports bras, socks, makeup, advil, etc) spread out around her. Oh yeah, and I think I may have been muttering to myself. I was a crazy bag lady. I am afraid I caught a glimpse of my future. I didn't catch a glimpse of my IPOD. It wasn't there.

In the end, I was saved by the miracle of the "internets" and a random act of kindness. A fellow CTA denizen found my IPOD and rescued it from whatever unsavory fate it may have suffered at the hands of the CTA or of those embittered souls forced to take public transportation every day. This kind woman posted my IPOD in lost and found on craigslist. By some miracle, random act of genuis, I checked craigslist. We connected and I now have my IPOD.

huzzah.

The only other contention I have with the resolution of the whole IPOD affair is that the person who found my IPOD was not the man I will marry. It was a very nice, but not-my-type, woman. (Sister, if you think about it, and think of our hometown, you will know the type.) For some, strange, deluded by Disney reason, I had this hope that the finder would be my soulmate, we would marry, move to Bogata, and live happily ever after. It was not to be, most likely because the losing/finding of the IPOD occurred on the Tuesday that I failed.

Also, when I got to the gym, the toilets were gone. Gone. That is what happens when you fail a day.

Confining Undergarmets and the women who love them

2007-04-19T13:57:00.000-05:00

Anyone who has read/seen Gone with the Wind knows that Scarlett O'Hara had a 16 inch waist. Mami laced her up into her corset and she bragged about her Scarlett's waist all over the county. Scarlett was even somehow able to maintain her girlish figure after she had two children and grew about twelve years older. (The book describes her horror that her waist had ballooned up to 20 inches. I have zero sympathy).

I wonder what a sixteen inch waist looks like today. I am not talking about the jeans waist because good luck finding anything smaller than 23 inches (blue cult makes the smallest). In my opinion, the "waist" measurement on jeans really measures the hips and the measurement that purports to measure the hips just measures the breadth of the butt.

In the ante bellum south it was to notice a woman's waist because her corset pushed any extra skin to her chest and hips, making the middle look smaller. Everyone knows the many flaws in the corset concept (ie: their tendency to cause women to faint, sometimes deform ribcages, decrease lung capacity, not to mention the length of time and amount of effort it took to put them on)

Obviously women do not have to wear corsets today. We don't even have the option. In fact, the closest thing we have to a corset is a girdle -- which I personally would not want to have the hot paramedic pulling me out a car wreck see me in. The other modern substitute are those terribly uncomfortable nylons, called Spanx, which are nothing like the cute little underwear that cheeleaders wear under their skirts. Spanx are life draining torture devices that take at least ten minutes to pull up properly and do not look any more attractive than the aforesaid girdle. (Yet I wear them, I hate them and they humiliate me in front of myself, but I wear them.)

How wonderful for us.

Instead of faking a sixteen inch waist with a corset, sometimes it feels like we are supposed to have a naturally (or surgically) cinched waist. In other words, what Scarlett attained through the strength of a very determined nurse maid, whale bones, and sturdy fabric, the modern woman is expected to attain through shear force of will. We are supposed to look that good naked.

Totally unfair.

As much as I complain about the nefarious spanx whenever I make the mistake of wearing them (ie on Monday), I think I would much prefer to wear binding undergarmets than have to appear as if I wear binding undergarmets, but in reality, not actually wear them. I would like to fake it just a bit, so that I could not fake liking to exercise or feeling better not eating bread.

I do not necessarily advocate returning to an era where a woman must wear a corset in order to be considered decent. However, I am pretty sure that I am not a huge fan of insisting that a woman maintain the shape of a corseted/starved female figure without non-surgical and/or socially acceptable aids.

(Okay, this post is kind of old but I am going to post it anyway)

Why I Will Never Conquer the World

2007-03-07T09:57:00.000-06:00

I'll be late. I have this problem with chronic tardiness; it's like no matter how hard I try, I just sort of let myself get away with being late to pretty much everything. For example, I have yet to show up to work on time. Seriously, and I have been working here since August. I can get away with it on most days provided that I beat my boss (ie. la juez) because my co-clerk is an early bird. However, recently I have been getting the feeling that he is tired of my chronic lateness...although he could just be generally crabby. This, in turn, annoys me (as well as makes me feel guilty). The result is a general feeling of tension in the chambers (or at least the clerks' office).

In short, I want to go home and sleep for the rest of the day. Maybe the week.

Blog Cog

2007-02-22T14:23:00.000-06:00

There is a formatting issue with my blog that I would really like to resolve. Every time I make a new post there is a HUGE space between the subject line and the end. It bothers me - interrupts the symmetry of the whole page. Arg and rah both.

Also, the comments are re-enabled on the page. Just please, if you have nothing nice to say just say nothing, or I am going to un-enable them again.

Fight Club

2007-02-21T16:51:00.000-06:00

It would probably surprise most people to know how much time I spend thinking about the movie Fight Club. It actually surprises me, which is strange (is it normal to be surprised by one's own line of thought?). The reason it surprises me is mostly that there is no good reason for this particular movie to come into my head as often as it does. I haven't even seen it in at least three years.

(A certain unnamed upstairs neighbor borrowed it from me in undergrad ... I haven't seen it since. The reason this person is unnamed is because any three of the four girls who lived above me senior year could, conceivably, have been the one to borrow it.)

One of my favorite things about it is how you don't know that the narrator and Tyler Durden, whom he emulates and seems to idolize to some degree, are actually the same person. I like to thing that a crazy-brad pitt type may lurk beneath the exterior of the most generic office drone. In a truly bizarre twist of my line of thought, that prospect gives me hope that my future husband might actually be somewhat interesting. (Not that I am currently betrothed at all, let alone to some desperately boring twit with a possible inner psychopath.)

I also absolutely love the narrator's description of insomnia. "When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake." I always wonder if he had insomnia because of his inner brad pitt or if his personality split because he wasnt getting enough sleep. Probably the former, because it seemed that the reason for the split was that he was so repressed and generic for most of the time (even though I think Edward Norton is totally hot, and that his ability to be utterly plain is just a testament to his skill as an actor).

Probably a reason Tyler Durden and I would never work out is that when he gets insomnia he finds this crazy personality and acquires legions of minions who worship him and with whom he can fight. I, on the other hand, clean my apartment and paint my nails. And, I would prefer a clean apartment and no minions to legions of minions and that icky house that he lived in after he acquired them, which actually is probably the more obvious reason.

Well, maybe some minions would be cool. They could keep my apartment clean and make sure my cuticles remain in control (my cuticles are part of the reason why I really should wear gloves all the time). And, if a minion got nailpolish on my skin when painting my nails? They would sleep in the basement.

Below Level Reading

2007-01-26T10:50:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I started thinking about why I keep a lot of secrets. Partly, I think it's that I like being mysterious. It's kind of fun - even if I am usually not all that successful (it's kind of hard to be mysterious when a little excitment makes you go all rabid chipmunk-esque). Partly, and this is the part that worries me, it might be that there are just things that I don't like admitting. It's not that I am ashamed of most of these things (some of them, yes I probably have a bit of shame, let's just say it's the catholic in me).

On that note - I am going to own up to my deep and abiding love of below level reading. It might be one of my favorite past times. In case the term "below level reading" confuses anyone, here is an example. I love the Gossip Girl books. Love them. Not only are they trashy/chick lit (which is also below level, but at least is found in the adult section, not the childrens') but they are written for highschoolers. Time called them "Sex and the City for the younger set."

Post Secret

2007-01-25T14:39:00.000-06:00

My darling sister lent me her copy of Postsecret. Postsecret is a coffee-table type book that bills itself as "found art." Basically, it is a compilation of secrets, submitted anonymously via home made post cards. I am so jealous of "Frank," it's creator, that I might just die. Imagine getting to learn all of those secrets before everyone else. The only problem for me would be not knowing whose secrets I was reading, or even what kind of people they were coming from (besides, in some cases, people with real problems). Then again, I am obsessed with the book (and the site - www.postsecret.com) and I don't know who wrote them.

Another problem: what if he got a really good secret, like something of national/international/cosmic importance, but couldnt do anything about it because he didnt know where it was coming from? Or if it the secret was true? It would kind of be like an interior Cassandra syndrome - he would know this thing, and could think it all he wanted, but probably wouldnt even really believe it. That could be too much for me to bear...but then again I fool myself into not believing things all the time, so maybe I could bear it.

I don;t know if I would write into Postsecret. Of course I have secrets (everyone has secrets). I like having secrets. In fact, there is no good reason for why I decide somethings are "secrets" beyond the fact that I like keeping them. Maybe that is the secret I would send in to Frank.

I-What

2007-01-14T11:35:00.000-06:00

I am listening to a radio news story about MacWorld Expo this past week. Apparently it tried to bill itself as some kind of techie-spiritual experience; and people bought it. The commentator described how the theme from Space Odyssey (and other inspiring songs) accompanied the presentation of three 'revolutionary' products, and how no one laughed. The convention collectively played along with Steve Jobs schtick: widescreen IPOD/IPOD phone will change the world. The commentator attributed the credulity and lack of cynicism displayed by Macfriends, paying customers and jounalists to apology for their dismissal of the Ipod in 2001. he also mentioned how the recent allegations of stock back-dating against Jobs have been swept under the table.

Not really sure what to do with this; especially coming from the journalists. It is their job to be skeptical; to make sure that we see the whole picture (not just how cool the new toys will be). Not really sure how I feel about how easily a convention full of adults can be sucked in with the promise of a couple of cool new toys; or how Apple can bill said cool toys as 'revolutionary' or inspiring. Can music, lights and a pretty speech really convince people that a phone/tv will change the world? How gullible are we? What human trait makes us such easy targets for someone promising that they can change the world? That promise (combined with an appropriately psuedo-spiritual marketing schtick) has been used by everyone from political leaders, to economists to hollywood. Can't we find inspiration in something that is worth being inspired by? Not to be dramatic, but the whole thing just smacks of being an example of a type spiritual bankruptcy that irks me.

I guess I just really wish that there had been a little undercurrent of sarcasm or irony to the presentation; or to the collective interpretation of it. Eventually, it is likely that I will buy at least one of the above-mentioned products. It's just that I wish that they were billed as what they are (toys) and not under the guise of a religious experience.

New Year

2007-01-01T03:58:00.001-06:00

I am drunk. I am obsessed with th OC. I am watching the OC, drunk. What does this mean for the upcoming year?

Nothing productive. Must leave the country.

Ciao

Lost Week

2006-12-29T09:12:00.000-06:00

Half of the judges took vacation this week. I work in the largest circuit in the country. This could indicate that, at the moment, our legal system is only working at half capacity. If that is the case, the state should really just close the courts full stop during the week between Christmas and New Years; give everyone a vacation. Nothing is really getting done this week, and the little that is getting done is not being done all that well (or is taking inordinately long due to the fact that I am behaving like a crack addled rabbit with ADD).

This would benefit the lawyers as well. Every type of lawyer who comes through here could definitely use at least some time off - the amount depends on the category of attorney into which they fit. I privately divide attorneys into several categories, depending on their skill, age, intensity, punctuality, cleanliness as well as their command of the English language and basic grammar. The system would probably get the most benefit if the attorneys at the top and the bottom of the food chain took a little break.

Taxicab (driver) Confessions

2006-12-13T10:32:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I had to go back to the doctor to pick up my test results. (They weren't all completed, but that is actually another story. Apparently, Uncle Sam is subjecting me - or rather my blood - to some rather unusual, and lengthy, tests.) As per usual, I was running late, so I took a cab there. As it was raining I then took a cab from the office to Trader Joes, then from there to my apartment. This morning I took a cab from my apartment to work (was running late and it was actually possible). Bad idea for my wallet ($23+11.00+14+13=$62!) but a fairly interesting experience. Cab drivers are usually pretty interesting guys - I generally like talking with them.

The first driver was an older gentlement from Pakistan. He was the least talkative of the bunch, but had definite opinions on the best route (Lincoln Avenue). He also told me that he lived right by the office, so it was no big deal for him to get there. And he drove like a maniac, which I found endearing.

The second driver was a very young Pakistani boy (maybe 17). I was his first customer, and he was very energetic. He had a lot to say about the dangers of driving a cab. Apparently, it is the third most dangerous job - after prostitute, and cop. He regaled me with stories of his forays into the ghetto (his word). It was his least favorite place because people are always on the street and it is difficult to drive. He said there are hordes of people just walking on the street at all hours of the night. I have never seen this for myself, but I was not really clear as to what area he was talking about. He also had a lot to say about "ghetto guys" whom he picked up from time to time. Once, he picked up a well-dressed guy from the Drake and drove him into the "ghetto," and proceeded make multiple stops on street corners with this same guy in the car. Then they drove back to the Drake. He was paid $500. He also told me about this "ghetto" guy who worked at the consulate in Pakistan. Apparently he spoke like a rapper and terrified the applicants. I got the feeling that this first driver had a love/hate relationship with, as he termed them, "ghetto" people.

The third driver was a radiology student at Truman College. He was from North Africa. He really liked Snoop Dogg, and played B96 very loudly. I liked him because he gave me a cab company number, which I didnt have before. I was his first customer of the night too.

This morning my driver was about my age and of an indeterminate Asian nationality. He was studying finance at DePaul and wanted to be a currency trader. The idea of being a cab driver while going to school fascinated me. He did not like his job at all - said it was really, really boring. I told him that he should listen to books on tape.

Okay, this post is getting boring even for me to write. I'm sorry if you read all the way down to here.

Ciao

Breadtastic

2006-12-12T00:04:00.000-06:00

This evening I presented myself with two options with which to fill my time.

First: gym. I recently (last month) joined a gym approximately 5 blocks from my apartment and on the way home from work. It was expensive. I've been there 5 times, maybe worked out for a total of 4 hours. Not cost effective - I think I get a better work out walking there than actually working out.

Second: Baking bread - definitely preferable because it meant that I couldgo to the grocery store AND bake. So I did and it was awesome (ish). It worked out perfectly because I had the wonderful unplanned surprise of Ms. Jen, Mexican food and a delicious margarita. Fabulous, not only for the fun-ness of it, but also for the pure practicality of the distraction: the bread had exactly enough time to rise.

My adventure began when I came back from dinner. The pilot light had gone off in my oven; my ancient, and as I learned, terrifyingly flithy oven. Ms. Jen (ironically enough) had taught me the mystery of the stove pilot light; when the apartment smells like gas, the pilot light is most likely off. The stove light was totally on - and this light has nothing to do with the oven.

I had no idea where the oven light was - none at all. All I knew was that it was off and my apartment smelled like a gas station. So, very intelligently, I stuck my head in the oven and searched around. I picked up the broiler and poked around some tubes at the back. Nothing. Moved my stove from the oven - nothing except I knocked out the pilot lights on the stove.

So I went online- googled "Magic Chef" + "pilot light." Apparently, I had the right idea on my first try. The message board I came across advised me to "Stick my head into my oven a la Sylvia Plath." Apparently, the reason it didnt work the first time I did it was that I did not actually try to light it with anything (yes, sometimes I am too smart even for my own ego to handle). Following that piece of anonymous-online-message board wisdom, I found myself with my head stuck in an old oven, reeking of gas, with a lit match trying desparately to get some sort of a flame.

Somehow I survived, and I am happy to report that the bread is delicious. Yum and goodnight.

Ciao,

Testing...testing

2006-12-08T18:06:00.000-06:00

Today I left work early to head up to Albany Park to start my medical clearance. That went smoothly, aside from the fact that the office staff (who are nice actually) lost my file. They drew blood (a lot) asked some questios and sent me to get some x rays. That was all fine.

My issue is that my doctor is kind of an odd bird. First, he made a comment under his breath when I told him I needed to get these tests and why. I wish I knew what he said --- it sounded like it might have been funny. Second, when I asked him for my for my normal prescription so I wouldnt have to trek up to the northwest tundra in another month, he made a comment about jail. It was weird of him. Third, when I was sitting outside of his private office having my blood taken he was on the phone with some patient having a detailed discussion about spermicide. He described the texture (thicker than the cream); how to use it (insert into vagina); and that if that is not something "she" is comfortable with, [anonymous patient] can always use a condom. He also informed the anonymous (and I am fairly certain male) patient that one could find spermicide in the "womens'" section of the drugstore. ("You know, where the ladies get certain things that they need from time to time.")

My question is who the hell needs to ask their doctor how to use spermicide. And what kind of doctor treats patients with such idiotic questions? Seriously.

And this is the man in charge of my health. Thank you blue cross blue shield.

Ciao - Ciao.

Carded!

2006-12-06T23:51:00.000-06:00

I got my ARDC card, which is basically a lawyer tag. This is not a bad thing - I am thrilled to be tagged. It means that I don't have to go through the metal detector anymore. I get to through the special entrance and flash my card the deputy. It's going to be awesome.

Pretty soon (perhaps) I will get a special diplomatic passport. This would also be awesome. I would be diplotagged. Tonight I finished filling out the security clearance forms (again). Some of my friends should be expecting a call in the next several months from the security officers. Hopefully they know who they are.

Ciao-Ciao.

Seriously

2006-12-04T23:26:00.000-06:00

There is a pretty strong emphasis on professionalism in the law. It's sort of surreal for me, because professionalism, maturity in general, sometimes feels like an alien concept to me. My problem is that when I put on my "professional" hat, I feel like I am doing some sort of elaborate ritual - which belongs to another culture entirely. In fact, given my current level of 'professionalism' I think that I would have more success if I moved to mongolia to raise wild horses.

I guess that one of the best personal(meaning outside any legal skills) advantages I am getting out of this clerkship - a few extra years to grow into the professionalism that seems to be required of an attorney.

On that note, however, there is nothing quite as ridiculous as a lawyer who takes himself too seriously. Why? As I see it, it's like everyone in the court room knows its an act of sorts. Some professionalism is respectful and necessasary - this is the genuine kind. However, there are those who wrap their 'dignity' around them like a cloak - maybe trying to mask that pike pledge that lies hidden beneath the surface? (You know the guy. He attempts to be the alpha male, but it doesn't quite take and there is this sort of sweet social awkwardness.) It's too bad, because in the end I think that everyone in the courtroom has a hell of a lot more in common with that pledge, than the pretentious jerk he is pretending to be.

One of the best things I have read today is from the now defunct blog 'Wings and Vodka.' Actually, this quote was the impetus behind this post. I just think it's great and I hope my friends, law school and otherwise, can somehow apply this to their lives (this means you laura, if you are reading this).

"Here’s to dropping the Ludacris footnote into your judge’s opinion, or the GHB in the hiring partner’s coffee, or your pants at the firm Christmas banquet. Here’s to providing fodder for the hundreds of law students blogging about their clerkships each summer. Here’s to setting aside a few minutes out of each day--each of the thousands of days we’ll spend in this serious profession--to take ourselves a little less than seriously. Seriously."

Seriously.

Ciao.

Gilmore Girls

2006-11-28T13:01:00.000-06:00

This post should probably be prefaced with the fact that I do not have a TV in my apartment. I own one (two) but do not keep it in my apartment because 1) it would look ugly (unless I bought I flat screen, which I cannot afford); 2) I don't want to pay for cable; and 3) TV has a tendency to hypnotize me.

An illustration of TV's strange powers over me has been going on for the past few days. I bought Gilmore Girls on DVD (season 1) on Sunday. It is twenty two episodes. I have 5 left to watch (last night I did not get home until 7). Basically, for the past two days every moment spent in my apartment has been spent watching Gilmore Girls. I don't go to sleep until at least 2.

It's not that I love the series, or had even really watched it before. It was on sale at Borders, I wanted TV, so I bought it. Currently, I own Seinfeld (1), Sopranos (3), Sex and the City (2) and Gilmore Girls (1). None of these shows are my favorite (I don't think Food Network makes unwrapped DVDs), but I know more lines in them than is really healthy. Within a month, I will have an unholy knowledge of Gilmore Girls trivia.

Just in case anyone was wondering how I have been keeping myself busy since Sunday.

Ciao

Petty

2006-11-22T10:05:00.000-06:00

This post may be erased in a few hours, because it is an example of me at my pettiest. My current annoyance (very current as in like within the past ten minutes) is that a guy I used to date took me off his gmail chat list. Now I can't see when he is online. I'm not really sure when he did this (because he is not in my quick contacts); I just noticed it. Seriously - is it possible that he did it on purpose? It's a little confusing because he ended it like three weeks ago, and I know he still showed up on Friday. So why remove me now? He would have to take some affirmative action to block me - which is just a weird thing to do, considering the length of time that has passed. If he wanted to block me, why wouldn't he have done it right away?

The most annoying thing about this situation is that I noticed it; noticing brings the whole situation back into my mind and I have to think about it again, which is annoying because I am not all that interested in him, more just interest in why he did this. What could possibly be going on there?

Unfortunately (or not) it's probably a mystery that will never be answered. I'm certainly not going to ask him, and given that he cut me, it's unlikely that he will be forthcoming with any information (about anything). Ah well, just going to have to chalk this one up to random acts of psychosis'.

Ciao.

Estoy cansado

2006-11-20T21:57:00.000-06:00

Si.

My Costa Rican mama - Tati - would have me repeat that after her every morning when I would be yawning as I walked down the stairs. Her children and husband left the house at 6:30 - I got up at 7:15 and left at 8am. Tati didnt even allow me the same excuse that Mdme Grisoni did (that i am a hopeless, albeit pretty, lazy American) because she insisted that my "American-ness" was not the source of my laziness; she and her family are just as American as me.

So, I am still super excited about the foreign service exam. Although now I am just nervous about messing up on some silly administrative thing. Or what if I am not suitable? Oh dear. There always seems to be another thing to worry about. Why is that?

Ciao.

Blue = empty without me

2006-11-17T16:10:00.000-06:00

create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands

Trek-Back

2006-11-17T15:57:00.000-06:00

Last night I went to an alnumni event for my law school. It was at the University of chicago club. Don't ask me why, because that is certainly not the school I went to (not even close). The event was under attended and I stayed for under an hour. Some of the people I saw there really surprised me: why would you go to an event as an alumnus when you never attended as a student? And why be SBA president if you are not even going to follow up and go to alumni events? I am pretty sure that the answer is that the uninvolved student has a lot of time on his hands (as he doesn't have a job) and the SBA president is working long hours (making lots of money) at a big firm.

This weekend I am returning to the homestead (again - was just there last week). The baby (blondie) needs a babysitter (or maybe it is a little more accurate to describe my role for the next few days as a keeper/chauffeur). I plan on watching a lot of TV, doing laundry and swimming. It will be fabulous.

Ciao.

PS - Congratulations to D.K., Esq. for passing the NY bar!

Clarification of the Previous Nonsensical Post

2006-11-16T09:09:00.000-06:00

The story is that I ended up passing that exam. Suffice it to say that my surprise knows absolutely no bounds. I was so sure that I was not going to pass, that I don't really know what to do from here. Since moving to Chicago, I have pretty much been planning my future as if this would be my permanent home. It makes sense; I really like the city, I think being an attorney will be cool, it's close to my family. There really is not a too much missing from my situation right now.

Except there kind of is, maybe. I think that an attorney who interviewed me during a call-back really summed it up the best (before not offering me a position), when he told me that it seemed like my goal was to have a career that allowed me to do substantive work while traveling (not his exact words - which were actually obnoxious and included rather snotty comments about my aspirations which don't really apply here).

Should I feel bad that, despite everything I have right now, I just can't get over the feeling that something is lacking? Someone told me that it's the people in your life that make it what it is. I agree with this; it just can't be the whole story.

The bottom line is that I am so excited to have passed. I am ridiculously proud of myself (actually telling this poor guy completely out of the blue that "I passed the FSOA - he was confused). This is something I want so much that it seems like cold stone ice cream or the chanel quilted purse - almost immoral to actually attain. Luckily, I won't have to make any binding decisions for at least a year and a half. I guess right now is just the time to bask in the sense of self-accomplishment and day dream about where this could possibly take me.

Ciao

Delirious

2006-11-15T00:59:00.000-06:00

I PASSED!!!!!!!

Me, Esq. FSO (!!)

Need to sleep - can't think - too many steps at once - I love it.

Ciao.

Pivotal moment #2 (?)

2006-11-13T22:30:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow I am taking another test; the second part of my application for the foreign service. I wonder if I will pass; or rather, I wonder what will happen if I do pass. It's something I want so much, I don't even know what I would do if I actually get it. At this point, however it is 11:30 at night and I have to get up in five hours. I am an incurable insomniac.

After the test I am going to the opera. (Oh dear, sometimes I wonder what is going on with me ... the opera? Seriously.) Actually, I am looking forward to it (seriously.) I really want to see it because it is based on a biblical story which I included in my undergrad thesis. (okay seriously. I am a hugely, unforgivable nerd.)

I also have a lot of work to do...at work. Somehow, despite my nearly week off, I have gotten behind.

This is a dumb post. Maybe I will have more to write tomorrow. I'll either be thrilled, depressed or confused. Maybe resigned. Who knows.

Ciao.

The case of the missing file

2006-11-09T20:27:00.000-06:00

Today I was sworn in (the big day). Now I can put 'esquire' at the end of my name. The coolest thing, however, is that I left a court file at my parents' house in McHenry, IL. I am totally prepared to practice law.

The ceremony was okay- actually kind of moving. One of the speakers was a woman my grandfather knows (not really sure of the exact connection). No sure if she realized he was there. Something fairly emabarassing happened, however. I did not wear a suit. In case anyone wants to know, always wear a suit when you are going to an attorney ceremony. Why I didnt think of this is way beyond me.

It was kind of weird seeing all my law school classmates (or rather, some of my law school classmates). I know I look different (okay fatter), which is somewhat embarassing. But hey - at least I dont actually have to live in Lake/Kane/DuPage/McHenry County. SEriously. That would suck.

Another weird thing that happened today was that I ran into someone I knew from highschool. It was weird only in that it has been years since I saw this guy and he looked the same - maybe slightly more substantial and maybe more wrinkled? I don't know. He seemsto be living this freewheeling life, ski/sail bum. And I'm a lawyer - which he seemed to pity me for; which contrasted nicely to my almost instinctual feeling of "oh, well hopefully you will get your life together before hitting thirty." Wonder if he is feeling any of the doubts I am feeling.

Ciao.

Once is never enough

2006-11-08T22:14:00.000-06:00

Two posts in one day? Yes the things an evening at the old farmstead can result in. Nothing but craziness. Picture: Erin gets off at the second to last station (last stop) on the commuter rail - a full 70 miles outside of the city; is picked up in a suspicious seeming black towncar and whisked off into the night. Nothing but the OC and Laguna Beach episodes ahead of her. Except watching said programs has become essentially uncessary since a certain sibling has decided that she, like Kristin, will leave the McHenry County and take the OC by storm. Or, in the alternative, she simply pretends that Lake Forest is California incognito.

Or maybe I am just bitter that my baby sister is being a hormonal bitch.

And (perhaps because she is currently nuts) slightly bitter that I am going to be back here next weekend to "babysit" her current incarnation.

Seriously. Seriously. Just be nice. I understand that 15 is very cool, that LaCoste is very cool, that boarding school is very cool, etc. ad naseum. But seriously. Be nice. Everyone gets over this phase and if they have any dignity/shame they look back at it with slight embarassment. Seriously.

Ciao.

Almost Attorny #12544

2006-11-08T09:36:00.000-06:00

Several important things have happened since my last post. Since the world must be dying to know, I will update.

First, I started my clerkship. It is awesome - so much better than lawschool. Seriously.

Second, I moved to Chicago. It is awesome - so much better than Champaign. Seriously.

Third, I passed the bar (!!!). It is awesome - so much better than not passing. Really seriously.

Those are the big things. Tomorrow I am going to be sworn in as an attorney; very surreal. The ceremony is in Hemmens auditorium - which in itself is surreal; when I was an only child my mom and I used to go there to see Ella Jenkins perform. It is also right next to my old highschool. It would have never occurred to me that such an adult thing could happen there for me. After the ceremony I am going to Al's for lunch - and I am having a shake.

The best part about the ceremony is that I wont have to go through the metal detector at work anymore. I will go through the super special attorney entrance. It's just one of the perks that goes with spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on your education.

I think that I am going to start updating this more often. No promises (which would only be to myself since I doubt anyone checks this anymore), but I think I have the time and I enjoy it. Also, I am enough of an egomaniac that I really like writing about myself.

Ciao!

Audiobooks & the People Who Love Them

2006-07-21T23:30:00.000-05:00

Presently I am studying for the bar exam. It isn't as interesting as it sounds. Although writing pages on commercial paper (checks) suretyship (cosigners) and equity (thats not fair) is my idea of a fun Friday night, everyone needs a change after two months.

Enter Audible.com.

At the beginning I made a good faith effort to choose "academic" books on tape. (Yes, my brain is mush. Thank you IBABY and Law School, actual print is now too complicated for me.) Thus, foreign language downloads, New Yorker stories and biographies fill my audible library. I even have some Proust (native French), Lubac and Janet Smith.

Boy that was ambitious, and I can say that I found those all very edifying.

I learned that I do not have the ability to concentrate on bar while listening to interesting ideas.

Enter the audible "Harlequin" section.

It started off very innocently. At first, I bought a science fiction novel which slurpy and I destroyed in its written form (childhood obsession - and alanna is not as good spoken). But that led me to a science fiction/womens novel about a vampire - which happened to be published by harlequin. That was three weeks ago. Now, I am addicted to the smut. My audible library is packed with classics such as "Some like it Haute," "Match me if you can," "Debutante Divorce" and "The Sex Quotient."

Stephanie Merril, Patricia Burns: please don't kill me.

Have I relegated myself to the shameful corner of the bookstore marked by the bulging groins portrayed on every cover? Will I ever be able to show my face in the non fiction shelves again?

To be continued...

Keeping Oneself Apprised of Global Events

2006-07-18T12:42:00.000-05:00

It's exceedingly important. A lot of non-Americans I have spoken with are extremely critical of us Americans for having our collective head in our ass regarding anything that goes on outside our borders (she went on to say that she is suprised when people know the results of their local elections, but always knows that she can get an update on the latest Idol winner from any American she asks - be it a student, government official or homeless person). I think that is a little harsh, coming from a member of the Uraguayan upper class (think Beverly Hills but with more armed guards and bullet proof limos), but whatever. Her and her hubby have moved on to Croatia, hopefully to a more socially conscious community.

That's beside the point - because Americans really have no excuse for not knowing more about the rest of the world. At least two thirds of us (with basic cable and/or streaming capacity) don't. We are a very lucky nation in that we can do two things at once: 1) keep abreast in current affairs; and 2) (okay not actually doing) Anderson Cooper.

And that brings me to the point of this post. Anderson Cooper. Actually there is nothing else to say. I am currently a wellspring of knowledge concerning all things reported by CNN in the Lebanese-Israeli conflict due to my ENORMOUS crush on him. Seriously. There is something just very attractive about a man in the middle of armed combat who somehow manages to remain perfectly coiffed. (Please do not think that I do not realize the implications of that ability, especially when combined with chronic bachelorhood, residence in NYC and ownership of a welsh springer spaniel).

Maybe some soul searching would tell me that my emotions do not resemble a normal crush so much as they do fairly intense jealousy. Yes, he is a Vanderbilt, and yes he went to Yale, and yes he is famous ... but none of this is really the point. The REAL point is that it is cosmically unfair that some are allowed and PAID to roam the world and others look out on a fairly bland life in a very boring red state in the center of a very placid society (not saying that we don't all make choices, and that I am not in an enviable position).

But, despite my current blogginess I am not really in the mood for soulsearching. No. I am in the mood for commercial paper.

If only I wasn't lying on my myspace profile..

2006-07-14T22:42:00.000-05:00

Vanuatu happiest place on Earth
Wednesday 12 July 2006,4:50 Makka Time,1:50 GMT
Island nations scored above average in the index

The tiny nation of Vanuatu has topped a new index that measures quality of life against environmental impact, with industrial countries, perhaps unsurprisingly, faring badly.

Vanuatu is part of a vast sprawling Pacific archipelago described as "the happy isles of Oceania" by author Paul Theroux.

The UK-based New Economics Foundation (NEF) aimed to measure the environmental efficiency of global progress with its "Happy Planet Index" report, which it said painted a different order of world wealth but showed all countries could do better.

"The Happy Planet Index strips the view of the economy back to its absolute basics: What we put in (resources), and what comes out (human lives of different length and happiness)," the NEF said.

The Group of Eight (G8) leading industrialised nations which is meeting on July 15-17, failed to make the top 50.

Host Russia came in at 172 in the 178-nation survey, with the United States at 150 and Britain at number 108.

Consumption poor guide

The NEF, an independent group that did the index jointly with UK-based green campaign group Friends of the Earth, said the report showed high levels of resource consumption do not reliably produce high levels of well-being.

"The order of nations that emerges may seem counter-intuitive. But this is because policy makers have been led astray by abstract mathematical models of the economy that bear little relation to the real world," said Andrew Simms, the NEF's policy director.

NEF said central America was the region with the highest average score, combining good life expectancy of 70 years with an ecological footprint below its fair share, while island nations scored above average and Switzerland came top in Europe.

Out of the Asian nations, Vietnam came highest at number 12 and Singapore was ranked lowest at 131. African countries made up seven of the bottom 10, with Zimbabwe coming last.

Taste the pain

2006-07-13T15:42:00.000-05:00

Last night was my best friend's birthday. Got her the tasting menu at the local "haute" restaurant. "Tasting" was a misleading description, unless it referred to the phenomenon of tasting the food over the course of the next 24 hour period. It was a ten course feast which included a full glass of wine with each course. Suffice it to say that today my stomach is is the locus of an insurgency. In fact, the janjaweed have nothing on the effect of the seared steak and avocado consome on my stomach. Throw in a coldstone cake and you have quite the party. "Tasting" also implied to me (foolish girl) that it would NOT result in a rape of my checking account. Wrong again. "Tastes" are really quite expensive - akin to what I could have paid for that Theory suit I have been ogling. Sigh - things I should know BEFORE I consume the ten course masterpiece.

2006-06-29T14:08:00.000-05:00

I am conducting a poll to see if chronic insomnia is a natural partner with pre-bar jitters. My current sleep schedule is that I fall asleep around 3:30 and wake up around 8:00. As much as a moan about the lack of sleep, I am acutely aware that it is entirely my fault. For some reason I feel compelled to spend at least one hour reading in bed before I go to bed and after I have spent the day "studying" for the upcoming bar exam. This may sound vaguely impressive except that A) I am reading books which can probably be found in a grocery store and B) I force myself to stay awake even though I am falling asleep mid sentence.

Clearly I have a self destructive impulse. At this point, the best I can say about my ability to impress the bar examiners is my ability to describe the sales of goods in all their lurid detail, a la Sophie Kinsella's Shopaholic series.

Symthson of Bond Street

2006-06-28T14:30:00.001-05:00

Makes planners. Makes passport covers - www.Smythson.com - I really like these things, they are so beautiful. My sister predicated this admiration. Apparently she purchased a passport cover from their boutique in Heathrow. It's pink and embossed - very, very cute.

Unfortunately, it is doubtful that I will be able to afford them on my future income. This is ironic because prior to employment purchasing such an item would not have posed too much of a problem to me (thanks to a generous family). It seems somehow unfair that my disposable "income" will shrink as a result of actually attaining a job. There are good points to the new arrangement (ie entering a very delayed adulthood), but every once in a while one of the less appealing aspects rear up and remind me of how far I have to go.